#and you should definitely feel ashamed and sick of yourself no matter how much i personally like it

[moonstruckme]

Hey love! How are you? I hope everything is well. Could I request a fluffy fic where the reader is sick and the marauders dote all over her? I have been sick the past couple of days with high fever and I am in desperate need to be taken care of lol. It doesnt matter if it is a poly!marauders or one of the boys. You can choose whichever you are in the mood for. Thanks in advance <3

Hi sweetheart, I'm good, thanks! I'm sorry to hear you're unwell :( Soooooo relatable, basically all I do when I'm sick is fantasize about someone taking care of me. I've been dying to write a roomate!James fic so I took this in that direction, hope that's okay. Thank you for requesting and I hope you feel better soon lovely!

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James listens as the door to your room opens and closes again, his unease mounting. 

You’re typically quiet, but lately you’ve been quieter than usual. Normally, James can count on at least seeing you in passing, or hearing your comings and goings signaled by the ridiculously harsh creaking of the front door. You sometimes play soft music while you cook, or have a friend over to chat in your room, or listen to a podcast while you get ready in the morning. 

For the last few days, there’s been none of that. If it weren’t for the occasional sound of your bedroom door and your key still on its hook in the entryway, James might think you’d moved out. 

He’s been walking past your door more often today, curious and a bit concerned at what’s keeping you confined in there. Though he knows he should be more ashamed of his eavesdropping, who else is responsible for making sure you’re okay if not your roommate? Anyway, if one day he finds you dead in your bedroom, “I was trying to mind my own business” isn’t going to make a very good excuse. 

When he goes by on his fourth unnecessary trip to the kitchen that afternoon, James is stopped by the startling noise of rapid-fire sneezes from behind your closed door. He’s knocking before he can second-guess himself. “Hey, you alright in there?”

There’s a great snuffling sound, and then, “Yeah, thanks,” your voice muffled. 

James hesitates. He’s not sure what your definition of “alright” might be, but he doesn’t feel right going about his day when you’ve locked yourself away and are acting so strange. “Can I come in?”

“No.” 

Well, that’s about as much confirmation that you’re not alright as he needs. “Are you decent?”

“I—yeah, but James—” 

He cracks the door, sticking his head in just as you dive beneath the covers of your bed. The floor is covered in tissues and wrappers of some sort, dirty dishes stacked on your desk. The room actually smells like sickness, likely a result of your being in here without opening a door or window for days. 

“James, please go.” Your voice is muffled by the covers, but now James can hear how congested it sounds. “I don’t want to get you sick.” 

“We’re roommates, love,” he says, taking a few tentative steps toward you. “Whatever you have, I’m gonna get it eventually.” 

You sneeze, your form tensing under the covers. “Not if I stay in here and you stay out there,” you insist nasally. 

James crouches by your bed, careful to avoid the tissues and what he now sees are cough drop wrappers. He tugs at your sheets until you release them, pulling them down to reveal your very flushed, very displeased face. James can’t help it; his eyebrows come together and his bottom lip juts out in pity, and your glare intensifies. 

Of course, it’s hard to appear very intimidating when your nose is twitching as you fight off another sneeze. After a moment you give in, pressing a tissue under your nose as your shoulders hitch. James winces in sympathy. 

“How long have you been like this?” he asks, taking advantage of your distraction to touch the back of his hand to your forehead. He’s not surprised to find it warm, but the intensity of the heat that meets his hand has him inhaling sharply. He presses his palm to your cheek to be sure, but it’s the same. “Merlin, you’re burning up.” 

“S’not that bad,” you say, though your next sniffle undermines the claim. 

James brushes a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead, worrying his lip. “Seems pretty bad, love. I think we ought to get you to a doctor. You shouldn’t be this warm.” 

You’re shaking your head before he’s finished speaking. “James, no. I want to stay here, at home.” You pull your blankets closer about your shoulders protectively. “I don’t want to sit in some freezing waiting room for hours just so they can tell me I have a cold.” 

James looks at you for a moment. Your clammy forehead, your poor pinkened nose. A tiny shiver takes you, making you burrow under the blankets until just your pleading eyes are peeking out at him, and that’s what softens him to your cause. “Alright,” he sighs, “but then you need to let me take care of you.”

“But—”

“I don’t care about getting sick,” he cuts you off, leveling you with his sternest look. It’s not very well-practiced, but it does the trick, and you settle down. “You let me help, or I’ll take you to someone who will.” 

You look resentful at being given an ultimatum, but nod. 

“Great.” James grins, his usual affability returned. “Now when was the last time you ate?”

From that moment on, you’re on strict bed rest. James cancels his plans with Remus and Sirius for that night, both of them sending wishes that you start to feel better soon, and a call to his mum grants him access to her recipe for “get well soup.” You don’t have an appetite, but James coaxes you into eating a few spoonfuls, and the warm sensation in your throat proves too soothing to let a silly thing like appetite prevent you from finishing the bowl. James cleans your room as you eat, ignoring your protests and embarrassed groaning as he puts your tissues and wrappers into a bin, placing it beside your bed for easier access when you need it. Then, he gives you a steaming bowl of water, making you sit with a towel over your head in your own personal sauna. You complain about feeling disgusting as your sinuses empty themselves out, but admit to breathing a bit easier once it’s done. Soon you’re feeling well enough to sit up, propping yourself up on a few pillows with a full stomach and slightly clearer nasal passages while James takes your temperature with the thermometer he’d run to get from the corner store. 

“Can’t believe we didn’t have one of these,” he mutters as he holds it in your ear. “One of us was bound to get ill eventually, it’s a miracle it’s taken this long.” You hum, your eyes trained on the inside of James’ forearm. It hasn’t escaped his notice that you’ve been looking at him more today than you ever have before; he supposes he owes that to the glaze of fever he can still detect in your eyes. James would never embarrass you by mentioning it, but the warmth of your gaze is nice, and he’s glad you’re not sharp enough at the moment to notice he’s as flushed as you. The thermometer beeps, and he pulls away, the tension in his brow relaxing a bit as he reads the number. “Well, it’s not nothing, but it seems lower than earlier.” He feels at your forehead again, nodding to himself. “Yeah, definitely lower.” James leaves his hand on your face a tenth of a second too long, and your eyes raise to his.

“That’s good,” you say, giving him a small smile. He returns it heartily. “I feel better, thanks.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, his smile falling away when you give a small sneeze and then wince. “You sure, love? Is your head still hurting you?”

“It’s not as bad,” you sniffle, grabbing a tissue to wipe your nose. “I really think all this is helping, James, thank you. Sorry you have to be around me when I’m so gross.” 

“You’re not gross, you’re lovely,” he says dismissively, moving the box of tissues closer to you when you reach for it again. “You’re incapable of being anything but lovely.” 

You actually snort, the sound loud and wet. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.” 

“I do say,” James insists. “And I’m the only one here not delirious with fever, so I think that makes mine the final opinion.” 

Your cheeks get impossibly pinker, almost matching the hue of your nose, but your smile rivals James’ own. “Well, anyway, thanks for taking care of me. I really appreciate it.” 

James doesn’t bother to pretend he’s feeling for a fever this time, placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing at the skin under your eye affectionately. He thinks his heart actually turns to mush when you lean into the touch. “No thanks necessary, sweetheart. Happy to do it any time.”

[hughiecampbelle]

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

A/N: This I'd solely based on this fic, which I am in love with :) I ran out of room on the first part and had much more to say lol

Warning: addiction/addiction mention, abuse/neglect

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

Waking up at random underground bars, clubs, random streets in the city not knowing where you were or how you got there. It was definitely scary at times, but you were too numb to care

No one carded you, fearing your name more than your safety

Whenever you were hungover, you could hide away in your own bathroom on your own floor of the house, not that your father went looking for you or would seek you out very often, if at all

Everyone in that house knew. Everyone knew and they said nothing. When you got sick all over your clothes, reeking of a seedy bar or covered in glitter from clubbing, a fresh pair would magically show up folded on your bed. When your nose bled from the drugs and you used a white towel, a fresh one would be replaced in no time

You always believed you were being careful, that nothing bad would happen. You thought you were holding up the charade, and in some cases you were. Logan never said anything to you, about anything. As long you showed up and did as you were told, he didn't really care what you did outside of that

A few times you'd overdosed. Purely on accident, in your room, at the bars, at a party. A few times you woke up in the hospital, the closest one, but no one ever showed up. Even when you collapsed in your own home, your father was too busy in his meeting to pick up. Your mother was your emergency contact and she rarely picked up, too. Doctors knew who you were and that was enough to silence them, for better or for worse

It was easier to pretend this problem didn't exist. Like everything, your father ignored it, swept it under the rug

It wasn't until you called your father for help, drunk, high, crying and scared, unsure of where you were in the middle of the night did he reach out to someone, angry you woke him up, getting your brother to come find you. Your last attempt at seeking his love, his care, cursing yourself for being so stupid as to think he'd care in the first place

Connor dropped everything and got to you, seeing just how fragile and lost you really were for the first time. You could barely keep your eyes open. That scared him to death

It took a lot longer than they'd like to admit to realize you had a problem, that this wasn't just the occasional drink

Connor was the first to suggest an intervention. The rest followed, unsure of what to do, ashamed they hadn't seen any of this sooner

Coming off a high left you feeling low, helpless, and now embarrassed your big brother had seen you in that state. It wouldn't be the last time you'd go to rehab, but it would be the first

The anger came back though, it always did, and with nothing to soften the blow you took it out on yourself, on others. Your siblings were the first targets and no matter how many times you apologize, the guilt eats you up alive. Accusing them of not caring about you, of not noticing. In one particular dark moment you even accuse Roman and Kendall in aiding you in your addictions in the beginning, neither of them knowing. Kendall tries to tell Rome it's not his fault, coming to his baby brothers aid. If you could take one thing back, it would have been that. The look on their faces still haunts you

"Rome, I'm so sorry. I should never have-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I know, okay? I know."

You try getting clean on your own, something your sister makes it known she's against, but there's nothing she can do. When you can't get into places, when they refuse to have you again, you do it by yourself, mostly at Connors ranch. It's secluded, far away from your father. Once you stayed at Kens, a few times with Shiv, but you liked being at Con's the most. It's a mess and really you should be somewhere with professionals, but it's only for when you slip up, for when things are mostly stable, if that can even be measured

In the end, rehab is where you end up. More than a few times. When you get your phone back, one of them always makes sure to pick up your weekly call, even when you talk about nothing, like with Roman

You still thank Connor for picking you up that night

"Don't worry about it, I was happy to."

Being in your fathers presence is a major trigger. You try to stay with your mother for a few weeks, but she always grows uneasy with you around. She doesn't believe in your addictions, in any of your problems. She sends you back to Logan without a second thought, thinking you and your siblings are blowing things out of proportion

You got your own place, somewhere free of association from all those terrible years, all that sickness. You invite your brothers and sister often, trying to make it up to them every single day

You've been clean from everything for a year. Connor couldn't be more proud. Everyday you fear you'll go back to the old you and every day you find a reason, no matter how small, not to. Most of the time it's for your brothers and sister. All the shit you put them through, everything they've done for you, all the times they picked you up from rock bottom, it's the least you could do for them

Kendall still sneaks you candy, one of the last vices you can truly indulge in. Your favorite from when you were a kid. He doesn't hold anything you say against you, knowing what that mindset is like. When you feel yourself slipping, you turn to him. You don't always have to say it, sometimes he just knows, he understands

Shiv still helps you out. Straightens your hair, fixes your collar, doing some damage control with the public when they've turned the story on you, looking after you in those small, significant ways like when you were little. She and Con are the ones to ask if you're okay, if you need a place to stay for a few days, anything at all. Sometimes you even take them up on their offers

You and Roman are closer now, too. He seeks you out at events, hugging you harder than anyone else. He's always kissing your head, holding you close. His comments remain snarky, but for you, self-aware. Nothing that goes too far. He'd always got a glass of sparkling water ready for you so you don't have to go near the bar. What you said hurt him beyond words, but he also knows that was the detoxing you speaking, not the real you. Still, he checks how much is in his glass now, trying to make up for the past

Connor is still the only good father figure in the world. Every year you send him a card for fathers day, writing the same long winded note as a thank you to him. He pretends they don't mean the world to him, but he's got each one in a box under his bed. They make him feel so, so loved

It's not easy. It never will be. You still have to see Logan, talk to him, pretend there's anything left of your relationship. God only knows what story he's spun for Marcia. But it gets more bearable knowing you have people on your side now, that Connor, Kendall, Shiv, and Roman all have your back no matter what. You're their baby sibling after all

[csbenthusiast]

May your heart never stop beating for me - Choi Yeonjun X f!reader

a/n: *ahem* hi😭 it’s been a long looong while since I last wrote something and posted in here(my apologies), but ummmm this is a comeback ? sort of? idk, but what I know is that this was sitting on my docs app FOR SO SO LONG LIKE SINCE FEBRUARY and it was supposed to be out on Halloween and then on Christmas but I got sick😬 anyways consider this a miracle and a late gift 😀 (I’m also planning a Soob fic that was supposed to be out on his birthday but shhhhhlets not talk about it for now).

a/n²: y’all I lied😨 I’m late once again, but what matters is that it’s finally here!! Literally a year later 😀 and ummm I tried to mix two ways of writing this, so I hope it was not confusing!

Genre: angst? it’s bittersweet.

CW: toxic relationship (nothing to worry about, YJ and mc just go back and forth), language, Yeonjun has a bad behavior(I’m not sorry, I was feeling very angsty), implied suggestive touches? they both need each other in a not so healthy way. Lemme know if I missed something!

WC: 2.2k

disclaimer: this only fiction and does not represent this idol in any way.

Pls enjoy and give me feedbacks:DDD they make me very happy (English is not my first language, excuse any mistakes 😙)

Songs I listened while writing this: here

The weather outside was definitely a mood killer. As the days passed by, October just got colder and colder. And it’s not like the chilly weather wasn’t nice, in fact, it was actually quite pleasant.

The season was nice, sure. But spending the days alone was not on your ‘to do’ list, to be honest.

Yeonjun left without even explaining himself once again. Everyday life seemed meaningless and the urge to check up on him was growing more and more.

It was worthless, though. Why bother yourself when he has never put you on the top of his priority list? Was it too much to ask?

Despite that, here you were, almost 10pm on a Tuesday trying to cheer up your mood with a random movie playing on the TV.

It was a terrible film, though. The best option was probably going to sleep, but you knew better; going to bed meant reminiscing everything until the first ray of sunshine was peeking through the curtains.

In the end, you tried to go through that mess.

And, somehow, that thing was able to get your attention to the point where you ended up startled by the sound of the doorbell.

You tried to ignore it at first, too scared to check who it was, but it rang again. Was it a murder? No, no murder would ring the doorbell before making a victim.

In defeat, and dragging your feet to where the door was, you took a look through the peephole and, right now, the person outside was probably worse than a murder.

Yeonjun couldn’t be on the other side in the middle of the night, right? It was like he read your mind.

You twisted the keys in a hurried move, though. Being curious sometimes was a curse.

“Hey.” It’s the only thing he bothered to say, looking at his feet like he was ashamed. As if.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, not really sure of how you were supposed to feel. It’s kind of bittersweet.

He was still looking at the ground, but you took notice of how Yeonjun was shivering. Was it due to the cold and the lack of clothes? You’re not sure.

“I…” a sigh escaped his chapped “I don’t know, all the roads lead me here at the end of the day, I suppose.” It was an attempt to cheer up the mood, but by the look on your face he quickly replaced his smile with a frown.

Two pairs of eyes bored into each other, and it was clear that you were anything but pleased to see him standing by your doorstep. But, again, being good could be a curse, perhaps.

It was cold outside, and Yeonjun was shivering. Maybe you should invite him inside. Unfortunately, you did.

Huening Kai will have to deal with this later, I guess.

"Come on, you're clearly cold." You stepped aside, making room for him. "I can make some tea if you'd like. What do you say?"

"That's what I like about you, Y/N." Yeonjun winked "You're always looking out for me." and made himself comfortable on her couch.

"Do you deserve it, though?" the girl mumbled, occupying herself in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the older boy was looking around the room and hallway. A few things changed; the picture you two took back in July was no longer hanging on the wall and a few decorations were out of place. Odd.

"Hey, Y/N?" he called, receiving back a hum. "Where's our photo? You know, the one you're kissing my cheek."

The nerve. Where does he think it went?

"What do you mean 'Where's our photo'?" She scoffed, dropping a few things while doing so. "I put it in a box, of course" and mumbled loud enough for Yeonjun to hear.

The boy frowned as if she said the most horrible thing in the world. How could she put it in a box? Does that mean their relationship meant nothing to her?

"I can see the gears turning inside your head." Y/N said from behind, which scared him a little. Did you have a sixth sense or something? "Don't think too much about it… or do, it's up to you since I don't have a say in any of our conversations anyways."

Now, that definitely bruised his ego. Why were you being so passive aggressive all of sudden?

"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting by the couch once again.

Is he playing dumb? Or is he just trying to get under my skin?

Y/N bitterly chuckled. You surely could've ignored him when he knocked on your fucking door a few minutes ago, but you didn't and now you had to deal with his stupid behavior.

No, wait. Why were you complaining, though? You were the one who agreed to play his little games, right? Little games? Is that what this is?

"Hey, Y/N, look at me, will you?" Ah, it took him long enough. He used that sweet tone; he always did. Maybe that's his curse, being awfully sweet yet such a jerk sometimes. "What's wrong? Now I'm the one who's able to see the gears in your head." He chuckled and grabbed her hands, gesturing for Y/N to sit beside him.

His touch sent shivers down her spine, but it’s not like she would admit it. And Yeonjun must’ve noticed that, because he took this opportunity to bring Y/N closer to his body with a hug.

That touch was supposed to be an act of comfort, but it only made her feel more anxious than when she saw his face earlier that night. However, it was impossible to ignore his scent; y/n’s senses were drowning with every touch and breath lingering on her skin. Yeonjun was sneaky, he moved his hand off her arms and stroked her back, and, maybe, just maybe, y/n’s heart started to beat a little bit faster and louder.

Perhaps that’s your curse. Yeonjun always found a way to drive you insane, and you always tried to push his buttons. But by the end of the day, you two would always get back together. Saying that it would be the last time you’d hurt each other was pointless, because it was not the truth.

Despite everything, y/n wanted to be mad, sad and let everything out. But she couldn’t, her mind was a complete mess with every brush of his fingers on her skin.

“Hey, you seem off.” Yeonjun brought her face closer to his by holding her chin.

“Am I now?” Y/N flinched at his touch, face burning with the proximity. Your body betraying your emotions made him smirk.

Yeonjun’s breath was against her neck, with lips slightly brushing over her ear.

“Yes, you are.” He whispered. “Kitten, talk to me. Why are your walls suddenly up, hm?” And planted a kiss by her pulse point.

This situation was uncomfortable, to say the least. But it’s not like you wanted him to stop.

Really? He should stop. You had to stop it.

“I hate you…” y/n’s breath hitched. She pushed him away, but that was not enough. He frowned and tried to get closer to you at all costs. “I hate you for lying to me. And…and for running away when you sensed something was wrong. You always do that and then come back here to say it’s the last time, but let’s be honest, we both know it’s not the last time and…”

Yeonjun kept quiet the whole time. He knew you were right, it was a very good point, but he wouldn’t admit it. As always, he tried to stand up for himself.

“Come on, Y/N, that’s not true. We both know that.” his thumb grazed the line of her upper lip and her whole body tingled at the touch.

You were better than that, of course. Your hands wrapping around his wrists to push him away were enough of a sign to startle him.

“You’re making me look like some fucking crazy ex-boyfriend.” His words were sharp; sharp enough to make Y/N chuckle and cry at the same time.

Maybe that's what he is. Ex-boyfriend. The words matched his actions, but why hearing or even saying it out loud left a bitter taste in your mouth?

“Maybe that’s what you are.” hurt was evident in her voice. “You run away, fuck some other girl and then come back to me expecting everything will be alright? I’m tired, Yeonjun. And I’d appreciate it if you could just…leave me alone.”

He went silent. The room grew silent once again, and the only sound that dared break the silence was the soft thuds of his heart. His breath hitched, but he put on an act with a scoff, trying his best to look unfazed.

What else was he expecting? She was right, he messed up one too many times. Even when they did reconcile, it never lasted long.

After a few minutes of thinking, and an endless amount of silence, he looked at her with a sly smile curling his lips.

“Kitten, has anyone made you feel as good as I do? I don’t think so…” his lips widened even more with every second.

And, maybe, just maybe, he was right, and thinking about it left a bitter taste on your mouth. No one has ever made you feel like he did; does. Did it really matter if he shattered your heart? By the end of the day he would be just Yeonjun, the loving, caring and stupid boy you met through your friends.

Yeonjun could read you like a book, but you never really tried to hide your feelings or reactions either. Just the subtle brush of his fingertips on your arm was enough to get him under your skin again.

It’s all too overwhelming.

“You like this, don’t you?” He whispered. “It’s a cat and mouse game. Excited much?” Yeonjun added.

Oh, yes. This was nothing but a game.

Right before his eyes y/n was clearly aching. But you didn’t have anywhere to hide, did you? You opened the door and let him in.

It’s just you and me now, she thought.

“Who wins in the end?” Y/n looked at him with a bored expression, but in reality everything about her was fragile now.

Despite that, Yeonjun kept a smug look on his face, bringing her close to him. It was obvious what he was thinking.

“I’m not quite sure. Wanna find out?” He licked his lips and kissed her cheek.

His breath was hot on your collar, making you loudly swallow. He moved his mouth from your face to your ear, then jawline and lastly the neck, making you whole body shiver with the contact, a human contact you missed for weeks.

“Why do you treat me like this?” She mumbled, too dizzy with his touches.

“Now, that’s not what I asked, love. Do you want to find out how this game ends?”

A tear dared to almost run down your face. You wouldn’t let Yeonjun do that to you, though.

“M-mouse…” Y/N whispered. “Mouse wins.”

Yeonjun seemed amused by your response, which made his grin widen; you couldn’t properly speak without wanting to break right in front of him.

He pulled away from you, going back on his feet.

Is he going away again? You thought right before he offered his hands for you to take. And so you did, just like you did a few months ago.

Surprisingly, the palm of his hands were really warm and welcoming. Who would’ve thought, right?

“You’re so pretty, princess…” Yeonjun smoothed your hair and dragged his thumb across your lips.

Pretty? It’s more like ‘weak’.

He was asking for something, that was a fact even if unspoken. You couldn’t blame him, could you? He was just this good at turning the tables, so good to the point he would make you feel weak and break for him.

“You’re not supposed to be here…” That was everything y/n was able to reply. She was confused, frustrated. Why was he doing all of this? To torture you?

But it felt good, though; having him there in the middle of the living room under the dim lights of the apartment. You didn’t want to be alone, it was not a good option.

However, it was impossible to ignore the tension growing in the air.

Before she could think some more, Yeonjun stumbled with her into the kitchen, being quick to press a soft kiss on her lips and placing her on top of the counter.

It was a short touch of lips, but enough to make y/n sparkle inside and also shake with anxiety. He did know how to be convincing.

“This is the last time I tell you’ve got it wrong…the last time I’ll run away.” He mumbled, chin resting on her shoulder while she caressed his covered back.

“Only if you promise me your heart won’t ever stop beating for me.”

He nodded, a silent agreement.

Was it really?

“I promise.” Yeonjun smirked, holding y/n on his arms and dragging her down the hallway straight to her room.

Heh happy Valentine’s Day y’all

[marshmallowprotection]

Slight tw for sort of health stuff and blood mentions

GE Saeran or Ray bc...my babies...with an Mc who is sort of a Germaphobe? Recently I have this awful habit of scrubbing my hands in the sink for super long, until they crack and bleed 😭 because I have a crippling fear of getting sick, I hate it its the worst ever, I have other chronic health issues caused by covid and ever since I've been just insane about germs. It's bad but sometimes I even scrub my hands raw just after holding or playing with my dog (and I hold and love on him FREQUENTLY) I have this like contamination thing, even the slightest brush up against something I deem unclean, i'm at the sink. it's bad. My hands look so gross and are in so much pain I can hardly move them from how much I wash them.

It's a bad habit and I know it needs to be fixed. I'd love some Ray or GE comfort about it ❤️ your writing always makes me feel better.

GE Saeran knows a compulsion when he sees one.

He isn't sure how many times he would have to do something for the sake of doing it so he wouldn't feel like he was going to be punished. It doesn't matter if it didn't make sense to anybody else in the room. He had to do something to make sure that it didn't feel like the walls were going to cave in on him.

For example, one way for him to gain control in a situation is to take a cold shower.

He will always revert to doing this even as he moves forward in his healing journey, because the only thing he can think to do to stop himself from feeling negative, is to shock himself. It's definitely not the best coping mechanism in the world but it's better than some of the others and he can learn how to find a better way as he goes forward.

It might not be the same as the compulsion that you deal with for your OCD, but he understands the sentiment. Understanding some of what you're feeling, it allows him the opportunity to be able to empathize and figure out the best way to help you feel comfortable again.

Sometimes, you can't help yourself and you have to go through with the compulsion otherwise you're going to feel like the end of the world. You have to follow through until you come together again. You don't need to feel ashamed of yourself for doing all the things you need to do to feel safe.

Even though it can be very distressing to know that you shouldn't be doing this to feel better. If he does know anything, it's that telling somebody that they shouldn't be doing something and that they should feel bad about it isn't going to help them. The best way to help somebody you care about is to treat them with kindness and respect in their moments of vulnerability.

So, in what ways does he try to make things better? Well, when you need to wash your hands, he has lotion ready so they don't dry out and cause further pain. That's the last thing he ever wants you to go through. It's hard for you to navigate your comfort in the long run, but minimizing any aftershock is essential to him.

It's a small thing in the grand scheme of it all, but it's better that he is able to understand what you feel and why it's not okay to force you to change your coping mechanism when you're not ready for it. This situation needs time and care, both with a therapist to help you with immersion therapy and the support of someone you trust in your life who won't make light of your pain.

"My love, I know people want you to think this is all in your head and that you've got control over it... but, I understand this isn't something that you can stop overnight. You need to breathe and forgive yourself for the hard days... I know you'd never let me feel ashamed when the compulsions I experienced suffocated me for so long... I want to be there for you the way you were there for me."

[alycosworld]

Tainted

Scaramouche X Reader

WARNING: mentions of (nearly) sexual assault

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A/N: I seem to have more angst/comfort ideas for genshin but I'm not sure why...also, I'm on holiday in a foreign country! I have no work and I'll probably spend all my nights on Tumblr after exploring the city in the day, so please please please send in some requests! I'm bored and although they might take some time, they might help me get back into writing more regularly. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but if I made a mistake, feel free to tell me. This has NOT been checked for any errors (I'll get around to it at some point).

I'm not sure if Scaramouche is ooc, since he doesn't say anything that nice in the game or in any official works, but I definitely think he has the capacity for it. And I like soft Scar <3.

If at any point you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ ON. I felt a little icky after writing the assault bit so do not force yourself to read any further or read at all. I do not want to make anyone reading this unhappy. Any victims of sexual assault or harassment, I hope you heal

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Keep walking. Just keep walking. Get home as fast as possible.

Avoid dark spots, avoid all people, avoid secluded areas. Just get home now.

That's what you told yourself after it happened. Archons, you didn't even know how you should feel. Ashamed? Angry? Disgusted? Upset? Confused? Afraid? The amalgamation of these emotions just made everything worse. You felt sick to your stomach. You wanted to cry and scream and vomit and disappear all at the same time.

You felt like you were covered in grime and you don't even know how you managed to get away. You should've done something, anything! But in the moment, you couldn't.

Your day had started normally. You went to the Adventurer's Guild in Inazuma, doing your commissions and taking up a few extra quests to help people out. Even though you were walking home later than normal, you didn't think much of it. Until somehow, you lost your way. In the dark, things became a little more vague and confusing, so you ended up taking a left and ending up in a dark alleyway between two dimly lit buildings.

You walked through, lost in your own thoughts, until you heard some chuckling and some incoherent remarks made by someone exiting one of the buildings out a back door and into the alleyway.

Glancing up, you saw that the person was a man - quite tall and well built with flushed cheeks: he was clearly not sober. You paid him no mind, staring at the ground as you continue to walk, determined to get home to see your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Though he wasn't one to worry, knowing that you could handle yourself, you did want to see him as soon as possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man asked, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head in confusion but staying silent.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" He asked, a suspicious smirk on his face.

"I'm going home." You said firmly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

"Oh? A handsome young thing like you, going home all by themselves? Let me walk you, I promise I don't bite." He continued, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the off--"

"Stop being such a fucking tease! Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it." He pinned you against the wall despite your attempt to politely refuse any moves he tried to make. He caught your arms above your head and harshly shoved one of his legs between yours.

"Don't like to me, hon, you know you want this." He whispered huskily. You had fought countless hilichurls, abyss mages and monsters far more intimidating and dangerous than that man that day, but you couldn't seem to move. All you could manage was a fearful 'please, don't do this'. Struggling was futile, for some reason you couldn't escape his grasp. You had fought beasts ten times this man's size but violating you like this? It made you break.

He gripped you harshly and even managed to kiss your neck a couple times, making the tears stream down your face uncontrollably, until he heard some voices. You recognised them immediately: members of the Adventurer's Guild. He must be known it too because he stopped as soon as he heard, offering you a sickening grin and scuttling away before you could react.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

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You didn't get any help from the Adventurer's Guild members who you heard, instead opting to rush home as soon as possible, trying to figure out what to do next.

The only solution in your mind was to crawl into your lover's arms and tell him what had happened. You didn't want anyone else to know - you know you could trust Scaramouche and you knew he would help you.

But he didn't.

You got home and wiped your tears before entering the house, hoping to look somewhat presentable despite having experienced such an impactful event. You dropped your belongings carelessly, not flinging at the loud sound they made as they hit the floor. You immediately made your way to the guest room Scaramouche had turned into an office of sorts, for him to work on Fatui business. The bedroom door was open and empty and he was nowhere to be found on the first floor, so that was the only other place he could've been. You were relieved to see him sitting at the desk, deep in thought with some maps and other sheets of paper laid out in front of him.

"Scar, I--"

"Not now, (Y/N), I'm busy." He said hot even bothering to look up at your frazzled and shattered state.

"I know but, please, Scar. While I was--"

"If you know that I'm busy, why enter in the first place? I'm working. Leave me alone." He said harshly. You didn't say anything, instead opting to nod silently and close the door. Since this was the first time you had experienced this pain and discomfort from being touched and defiled in such a way, you decided that maybe you should put it aside. After all, maybe it was something so jarring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Scaramouche's nonchalance was justified. In a twisted way, you blamed yourself for overreacting and decided to just forget about the incident. If it didn't mean enough for Scaramouche to even look at you, it clearly wasn't something worth fretting over. You were just exaggerating, right?

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You tried you absolute hardest not to let the incident bother you, but you unknowingly started changing your habits to prevent what had occurred from happening to you again.

"Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it..."

You started wearing less revealing clothing, going as far as wearing gloves at some point and covering your neck with collars and scarves through the hot weather.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

Initially, you just avoided dark or secluded places, even when you were with other people, but eventually, you were too scared to leave home at all. You didn't leave the confines of your small garden and if someone passed by, you would quickly hide yourself away. When Scaramouche had unknown guests and colleagues over, you would hide in your bedroom and make him promise not to mention you or acknowledge your existence in the slightest.

You even started taking longer showers and refused to bathe with Scaramouche, confusing him since you used to enjoy it so much. But you wouldn't let him see you in such a vulnerable state now that you were contaminated. You didn't want him to know that you had been tarnished in such a vulgar way, and you spent long moments scrubbing at the parts the stranger had touched. You were worried that Scaramouche would blame you for being assaulted - because in a sick way you thought it was your fault, despite having been nothing wrong. You had twisted the story in your mind to make it seem like you were responsible for the crime committed against you.

Eventually, Childe had to visit for business purposes, but you had become good friends with the eleventh Fatui Harbinger since he was friends with-- well, he and Scaramouche had a relationship, to say the least.

"So where's (Y/N)? Normally they're all over you and making you as embarrassed at possible." Childs grinned, and Scaramouche just frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"They're in our room. They don't really want to see anyone right now." Scaramouche said. Even though you told him not to mention you anymore, since you were so hellbent on avoiding all human interaction, he thought it would be okay to tell Childe. He was your friend too, after all.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Childe asked, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know. They've been avoiding everyone, including me. They barely talk to me and insist on sleeping downstairs." Scaramouche confessed.

"Let me talk to them."

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Childe exited your room after hearing what to had to say, and he was disturbed and sympathetic, at the very least. Scaramouche saw his wide-eyed, grim expression when he exited the room and immediately had questions.

"What?" Scaramouche asked.

"I'll come back tomorrow to continue our work." Childs said, referring to the business he originally came for.

"But we have to--"

"Scar?" Scaramouche stopped all his trains of thought and turned to the sound of your voice. It was hoarse but still as beautiful as ever. He knew you had been crying from your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you have other matters to take care of." Childe winked, before giving Scaramouche an informal two-fingered salute and showing himself out.

As soon as the door closed, Scaramouche turned his attention to you, not coming too close in case you didn't want to be near him.

"Yes, Love?" He asked, more concerned than you had ever seen him.

"Can I talk to you? If you're busy, that's okay, it's not that impor--"

"I'm not busy." He shook his head, and you offered him a sad and grateful smile before sitting on the edge of the bed while he took a seat on a nearby chair.

"So, uhm, a couple of days ago I was walking home and I kind of got lost...so I tried taking this alleyway and--" You stopped yourself, meeting Scaramouche's attentive gaze before continuing.

"There was a guy. And he-- he t-touched me. I-- I didn't know what to do. I could've easily fought back but I just got scared and froze up because that's never happened to me before and he kept saying that I wanted him-- but I didn't! I swear, I didn't. I know it sounds bad since I didn't stop him but I really tried, I just couldn't. And he started k-kissing me...here," You gestured to the spots on your neck that you could still feel being violated.

"And I felt so horrible and he didn't go any further because some people were coming, so I ran home. I-I...I didn't know what to do but I felt like I should tell you because I thought you would help me, but you said you were busy so I just-- It-tried to brush it off but I just couldn't get it out of my head! And before I got away, he told me that he'd come back and finish me off and so I didn't want to go outside anymore in case I ran into him. And I started to cover up since he said I was asking for it because of what I was wearing and then I just got scared and I felt dirty. I tried so hard to forget and clean myself but it kept coming back-- I can still feel him on me! I hated it, I still hated it! You have to believe me, I wasn't trying to get him to notice me, I just..." You broke down after finishing what you had to say. You had already been crying since you told Childe, but now you were choking out sobs and your face was drenched. Scaramouche stood up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed, a safe distance away just in case you still weren't comfortable with being touched.

"I believe you. I know you're not like that." Scarsmocuhe started calmly. In all honesty, he wanted to interrupt you as soon as you said that this man approached you. His blood was boiling and he was ready to murder this man for you but kept himself in check because you didn't need senseless violence or revenge right now, you needed comfort. What hurt him the most was that you were blaming yourself because he didn't bother listening to what you had to say on what was probably the worst day of your life.

"It's not your fault you were touched like that. You are not to blame, at all. I-- I should've listened to you when you came to me - as soon as I turned you say I thought something was wrong but I didn't bother asking about it. That's entirely my fault." He admitted, which surprised you. It took Scaramouche a lot to admit his mistakes, but for you? He didn't care. You constantly put up with his sour attitude, he can definitely listen to you and admit he was wrong.

"You sure? Because I still--"

"I'm sure." He said simply.

"But why did you start avoiding me?" He asked, wanting to understand the situation entirely.

"Well, because..." You started, unsure if he would get angry if you told him. While you were contemplating, he offered you an encouraging expression. It wasn't a smile, but it was more than enough to put you at ease.

"I didn't want you to think I was tainted. Of course, you wouldn't want to be near me after that had happened." You sighed, wiping up the last of your tears.

"You really are an idiot, you know?" He said, but after seeing the clueless and almost hurt look on your face, he immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't mean to be insensitive, he just...well, he often explained positive emotions with his very wide negative vocabulary.

"No, I didn't-- uhm..." He mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but you didn't interrupt him and made a small gesture for him to keep going.

"What I mean to say was, I don't think that you're tainted or anything like that. And I still...want to be...near you-- eugh!" He pretended to be grossed out at his own words in true Scaramouche fashion, but he knew you knew he didn't really mean it and was beyond delighted when he saw you giggle at his facial expression.

He sighed and acted angry as he opened his arms ever so slightly. You noticed the movement and quirked an eyebrow when he hesitated.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Scaramouche asked, unsure if you wanted to be touched after the incident.

Your heart swelled at his care and then you slowly watched as he stiffly wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. Although you had hugged and cuddled on countless occasions, he still wouldn't stop being so robotic unless you did something. It made you laugh and he pulled away slightly to glare at you, so you decided to just pull him back in and hug back.

And when you relished in the touch of another human being, the touch of the person you love, you began to cry. The last time anyone willingly touched you was in that alleyway, and so to have someone be so gentle with you and have no bad intentions, you were overwhelmed with emotion.

Scaramouche must've felt your tears staining his clothing and skin, and quickly pulled away with poorly hidden concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but you just continued to sob and nod.

"I love you!" You choked out. He sighed and gently patted your back.

"I...love you too." He said, before making another expression of mock disgust. He slowly moved to hold both your wrists in his hand and kiss down to your neck, pulling you into his lap with your legs straddling one of his.

You soon realised that he was covering up the placed the stranger had touched you with his own ministrations, effectively replacing the grime you felt you gained after the incident. After you came to that conclusion and Scaramouche was done, he didn't meet your eye, blushing profusely. It was justified since he didn't usually initiate any kind of affection acts, but you just cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, smiiling at him with purity and a newfound confidence in the both of you.

"Thank you, Scar."

[yoooespinosa]

hi! i don't know if you write for cedric diggory but i saw in your post that it could be any pair (and also because i love your writings!!). so if it's okay with you, can i please request cedric x ravenclaw!reader. where the reader feels insecure around ced because she's the new gf and is a bit jealous of cho (because they're both in ravenclaw), so ced comes and reassures her that she has nothing to worry about.

a/n: Thank you for your request! Definitely got off track lol.

Ordinary, that’s how you would describe yourself while looking in the mirror. No matter how many times you pinched your cheeks for a flush, pluck your eyebrows or even lather your face in expensive face masks, you couldn’t help but feel ordinary.

You see a dull girl looking back at your reflection, what could you possibly have to offer?

Bringing your face closer to the other you, you try and look. To look and see what he can possibly see.

No matter how hard you search, you find nothing. You sigh, a pout to your lips.

“What’s wrong?” A gentle voice interrupts your heavy observation. “You’ve been staring at yourself for close to an hour.”

You almost groan, you must look like a weirdo.

You turn to face the girl that was leaning against the door frame that leads into your shared bathroom.

She was beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful, her eyes, her hair, her cheekbones, the shape of her lips, even her voice was beautiful. Cho had to be perfect. It didn’t help that she had such a good heart.

She was so perfect, you wanted to strangle her. How could Cedric, your beautiful boyfriend, go after you when he had a girl like Cho before?

You couldn’t possibly comprehend it.

You open your mouth to answer her, but then cut yourself off. “Nothing important.”

You pass by her concerned gaze, heading to your bed, letting your insecurities run wild once your head hits the pillows.

If you had stayed any longer you might have asked something stupid like, “am i pretty?” and you didn’t need the possibility of your fears being confirmed.

Cedric and Cho had broken up a year ago. They both agreed they were better off as friends. A few months after their breakup, he took a liking to you. He did everything in his power to win your affections, it was easy to fall for him. Cho had been supportive of it too, even helping him woo you.

So you don’t know why you have these doubts, even when your months in with Cedric.

You’re not even sure when you started the comparison of yourself. Always questioning everything you did, ‘Did Cho do this?’ or ‘Did he prefer to do this with Cho, rather than you?’

You even started comparing yourself to all the other girls that still shamelessly flirted with Cedric. Knowing he was taken didn’t seem to stop them. It didn’t help that even they were beautiful. You were scared that maybe one day he’d see it too and leave you for them. Or realize he made a mistake with breaking things off with Cho.

You felt like a shadow compared to him, Cho and every other pretty girl that glanced his way. You felt as if you were watching him live his life, while you sat quietly, watching for a little tell sign of his doubts of you.

But he gave away nothing. He gave you everything though. He gave you his love and you wondered why that wasn’t enough to kill those running thoughts.

He looks at you with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes. Yet, you still tear yourself apart every night. Thinking of solutions on how you can just be better. You pick yourself apart, until your numb.

You fell asleep with the echo of your unanswered why’s.

“Ready?” Cedric asks, taking a hold of your hand.

You hum in agreement, letting him pull you up.

You both just finished lunch and planned on heading to his dorm to hang out there. You hadn’t brought up any of the thoughts that were burning through your skull the other night and you didn’t plan to.

You focused on the path ahead, not noticing the stolen glances from the boy next to you.

Entering his dorm, you both take off your shoes and place them next to the door. You put your bag down and just take in the room. Trying to let the familiar space sooth your nerves.

“You’ve been feeling alright?” He asks, looking at you through his lashes.

“Fine.” Nodding your head, but you think the bags under your eyes speak a different truth.

“Cho’s been telling me that you’ve seemed off,” He paused, then adding “lately.”

You faintly wondered why he said it like that, but inwardly shaking it off as you processed his words.

“You and Cho talk about me?”

You wanted to ask that they talked in general, but you knew they did. You weren’t sure why the thought filled you with a sense of dread, why your chest compacted in with it.

That little voice in your head was making up all these sinful scenarios, flashing before your eyes that you almost felt like you were going to be sick.

“We’re friends,” He says gently, almost like he sees how fragile you are, how one wrong word could be the downfall. “she’s your friend also. And she’s just been a little concerned.”

You chewed on your lip, cutting up your gums, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret after. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

He sighs and stares at you for a second longer, it seemed like he was searching for something that you weren’t sure you wanted him to find, so you turn your eyes away.

You heard his footsteps walking to the other side of his bed, followed by the sound of his drawer opening.

“Here,” You looked up to find him holding a brown cable knit sweater, your favorite one he owned.

It brought a small smile to your face, making an ounce of relief flood his chest.

You mumbled your gratitude, then taking your leave to the restroom to change. A shadow fell over his eyebrows, you’d always just change in front of him.

He didn’t linger on the thought for too long once he heard the click of the door and your light footsteps.

You made your way to his bed, gently prying the sheets open and sinking into the warmth. You turned your back towards him, closing your eyes, and letting the sound of the changing of his clothes fill the air.

A dip to the side of you and arms enclosing in on you, dragging you into more warmth. Yet, the coldness in your chest stayed.

You clenched your eyes shut and prayed for sleep. This was your favorite part of day, these naps with Cedric, his dorm room empty and the chance to be alone without anyone in sight to compare yourself to.

But even with his arms around you and the smell of him surrounding the space you were in, didn’t stop the whispers of the troubled.

He must of felt how tense you were, different from the way you so easily melted into him.

“Y/n.” He whispers, you felt him shift behind you, his arms loosening.

You clenched your eyes tighter, trying to even out your breaths, but even you knew that it was not possible to fall asleep that fast.

“Y/n,” He hovers over you a little, looking at your face with an unimpressed expression. “i know you’re not sleeping.”

You unclench your eyes, steeling yourself, for the conversation you knew was bound to happen. Opening your eyes, you met his soft bright ones. His eyes, that spoke everything you wished you’d just believe.

“Yes?” You mumble softly, peeking at him through your lashes.

He stares at you a second longer, then kisses your cheek. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” You were never good at playing oblivious.

“About what’s going on in your head that’s making you look at me like that.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Looking at you, like what?”

“Like i’m a stranger,” He mumbles sadly. “like i’m someone you should be wary of.”

Guilt washed over you, you didn’t know you were so translucent. You never wanted Cedric to be affected by the problems you were inflicting on yourself.

“That’s not true.” An obvious lie.

“It is.” He corrects you. “You can talk to me, you know that right? We’ll never fix anything, if you don’t talk to me.”

He was right, no matter how much you didn’t want to talk about this. You knew you needed to at some point. And it was looking as if that time was now.

“I just-“ You tried again. “Do you ever have, i don’t know, doubts?”

“Doubts?” You turn so your laying on your back now, him still half hovering over you. “About what?”

“Like,” A long sigh escapes past your lips, unwilling. “Do you ever regret getting with me?”

He gapes at you, almost looking offended of the question. “Why would you even ask that?” He sits up, causing you to follow.

“I don’t kn-“

“Do you think i regret it?” He rephrases, “Do i make it seem like regret it?”

Every scenario of him and you together flashes in blurs through your head and no he didn’t, the opposite actually. He looked at you as if you were the sun, as if you were brighter than the sun.

“No.” You mumble weakly, ashamed that even that revelation didn’t seem to dampen your insecurities.

“Then i’m confused on what brought this on.”

“Why are you with me, when you can be with someone as beautiful as Cho.” You meant for it to come out as a question, but it sounded like a statement.

Maybe you did mean to say it like that, it’s what you believed, the only thing you weren’t questioning the truth of.

You hear him get up and you feel as if your heart stopped beating. This is it, this was what you were preparing yourself for, you thought to yourself. Eyes already blurring.

Then a warm hand in yours, pulling you up. You stumble a little, but he steadies you, always keeping you grounded. Next thing you know he’s dragging you along to the bathroom. Confusion is clear on your face.

“What?” You mumble more to yourself.

He brings you in front of the mirror, the full body length one in the corner of the room. He stands behind you, towering over your smaller frame.

“Look at yourself.” He demands softly, when you don’t cast your eyes away from his.

You oblige, catching your own eyes. You furrow your eyebrows.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He asks, his hands ghosting over your waist.

“How could you possibly love me when i can’t even love myself?”

He looked pained by your words, that you could even have those thoughts.

“I’ll love you enough for the both of us.”

You give him a weak smile, “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Then i’ll help you love yourself.” He adds, desperately. “I’ll make you see what’s to love about you.”

He grips you harder, taking away the response you had.

“Look,” Because your eyes had ventured to his once again.

His thumbs brushed over your body, the side of your face, until they landed under your eyes. Covering the dark circles from view, he smoothed them out gently.

“Your eyes,” He began softly. “they have to be the most captivating eyes i’ve ever seen. They were the first thing i noticed about you, the first thing that pulled me in.”

His fingers brushed over your nose, curving in with it.

“This adorable nose,” He pinches it softly. “home to the freckles i could spend all my time counting.”

He brushed over your cheeks, leaving a pink blush. His fingers stopped at your lips.

“Have to be the most kissable lips out there.” He drags your bottom lip down with his thumb. “I could spend hours just kissing you, these lips.”

His knuckles brush over your neck.

“Where else am i supposed to leave my marks that show everyone your mine?”

He spends an hour at least, going through why he loved every feature about you. Talking about the way you bewitched him with your looks, with your heart.

“Can’t you see how you’re the cause of my euphoria?” His chin was resting on your shoulder, his eyes burning into yours, you never felt more loved than right now.

Those whispers dimmed in comparison to his loving words.

His hands were still roaming slowly over you, like he couldn’t get enough, you were sure he couldn’t get enough.

“What do you see?” He whispers, once your eyes take yourself in again.

“I see-“ You think for a second, really think. “I see potential.”

Potential to love yourself. Potential to accept the love he gave you. Potential to feel worthy to have him. Potential to see that he picked you.

And from then, every so often he would drag you to the mirror and do it again. Adding something new each time.

Until potential turned to beauty. Undeniable beauty. Until the whispers were nothing more than the self assured.

[9tzuyu]

who you are

note: mostly made this for my own comfort, but i do hope it helps and/or comforts any fellow lesbians :]. i normally wouldn’t specify sexualities on any characters because obviously everyones going to feel differently about different characters, but like i said this started off for my own comfort bcs i was hashtag goin through it.

prompt: basically just reader struggling to accept themselves as a lesbian. sorry non lesbians :(

warnings: heavy heavy heavy on internalized lesbophobia. talks about comphet (trying to force oneself to like men) and wanting to be ‘normal’

thank u ally for proofreading <3

not tagging anyone just because i don’t want to trigger :[

. . .

you were wrestling with something, natasha could tell that much. your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in a gaze. it wasn’t until the third time tony called your name when you snapped out of it.

“sorry,” you mumbled.

“well are you going to answer the question?”

natasha noted the tapping of your foot, knuckles cracking beneath the table. it was obvious you weren’t in the right state of mind to be answering any kind of question. foolishly, no one else picked up on that except for the redhead.

“what was the question?”

tony sighed, his patience growing thinner by the second.

“i asked if your report was done. it was supposed to be handed in three days ago, remember?”

your foot tapped faster.

“yeah- yeah, i’m almost finished.”

it wasn’t like you to be so late on things like this, you were usually on top of everything.

“you told me you would have it ready by today. this is the fourth time this month that you’ve done this. you’re dragging your ass and the rest of us are getting pretty tired of it.” a collective agreement could be heard from the team. all eyes were on you waiting for a reply.

if you hadn’t felt anxious before, you most definitely did now.

“it won’t happen again.” tony blew off your statement and rolled his eyes. you shifted uncomfortably, nauseous from all the negative attention.

you couldn’t help but wonder if they knew. maybe that’s why they were being so short. it made sense after all.

natasha tried making her way towards you, but she was stopped by steve’s hand on her shoulder. you were well past gone by the time she managed to scramble away from him.

your back pressed flatly against the wall, tears steadily falling down your face. hatred was all you felt. hatred towards yourself. 

why couldn’t you be like the rest of them? why didn’t you belong? 

whywhywhywhywhywhy

granted, you knew there was absolutely nothing wrong with being gay. that was never the issue. the issue was the fact that it was yourself, that there was no possibility for you to ever be attracted to men. 

you were sure it would be a phase, that it would pass, that you would forget about it and never think about it again. you tried to go on dates, tried to form a relationship, tried to enjoy having sex with them. none of it worked, no matter how much you forced yourself to believe it would. 

all you could think about was how sick and disgusting you felt. and the shit representation didn’t help your case at all. the media hardly ever portrayed a good, well-rounded lesbian character that wasn’t problematic, over-sexualized or dead. 

the media only reiterated the fact that you were supposed to want men. you were supposed to find the right guy and fall in love with him, call him your husband and start a family. 

a knock on your door pulled you away from your thoughts. you shuffled your way back to your feet, drying your eyes for good measurement. 

natasha stood patiently, eyes drilled on your doorknob. if it were up to her she’d be picking your lock, but she knew that would be crossing a boundary. she went to knock again when your door swung open. 

“hi nat.”

“hey,” her voice was soft. “you’ve been crying...” she pressed her hand against your face, thumb rubbing the top of your cheekbone. 

you shrugged. it wasn’t like you could deny her, your red eyes had already given away the truth. “yeah.” 

she hummed, “may i come in?”

you hesitantly moved out of the way to let her through, cursing at yourself for finding her so attractive. 

“you know you can talk to me, you always do. why haven’t you said anything?” natasha moved to sit on the edge of your bed. “you’ve grown quiet these past few days, it’s not like you.”

“i’m just tired, worn out from work i suppose.”

she nodded, though she knew better than to believe such a lie. natasha could always tell when you were lying, something you both hated and loved at the same time. 

you sat next to her after a friendly tap on the bed. her gaze made you feel like a little kid in trouble. it was as if she already knew and was prepared to say the worse.

“i don’t believe you.” 

“well, i don’t know what you want me to tell you, nat.”

“how about the truth?” you scoffed purely out of defense. “and what good would that do?” 

“it might relieve whatever you’ve got on your heart.” you met natasha’s eyes and your lip immediately began to quiver.

“i’m afraid you won’t be able to look at me the same.” 

she softened, taking your hand in hers. “there’s nothing in the world that would change the way i see you.”

“you say that now, nat, but-”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it.” 

you thought about it further. natasha had never been one to judge someone based on the things they’ve been through, the things they’ve done or the things that make them who they are. she saw people the way they were, nothing more, nothing less. 

but what if she didn’t like you or see you the way you were? you weren’t sure you could handle the aftermath if that were to be the case. it was bad enough you struggled to accept yourself, natasha’s disapproval would only break you. 

“i’m a lesbian.” a lump in your throat began to form and you found yourself crying once more. “i tried so hard, i tried everything i could think of, but i can’t, i don’t like men.”

you coughed, choking on your words. 

“i don’t understand, nat! i don’t understand why i can’t be normal. why can’t i do it? if i just liked men i would be okay, i would be fine, i would be fucking accepted.” you paused for a breath of air. “i just want to be normal.” 

natasha was taken back by your confession. it was nothing near what she thought it would be. she expected you to tell her you’d been stressed or that you were scared for the next mission. 

“i’m sorry, i-”

the spy quickly cupped your face, tilting your chin upwards as a hint to meet her eyes again.

“look at me, c’mon, hey. you have nothing to be sorry for, don’t ever think that you do. i love you for who you are. there’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. you’re normal, you’re who you are, who you’re supposed to be. you are real. i promise you are.” 

without thinking you leaned into natasha, clinging on to her for dear life. her arms found their way around your body, hands rubbing your back up and down. 

“you should be proud to be who you are, not ashamed. and if you’re not proud of yourself then please know that i am. i am so, so, incredibly proud of you, sweetheart.” she finger brushed your hair as you continued to cry. “shhh, you’re alright baby. i’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this alone.”

“it’s okay nat.” she gave your body a small squeeze, frowning at your response. “you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to force yourself to be someone or something you’re not. you don’t deserve to struggle so much for your own acceptance as a lesbian.” 

you nodded, though she could tell you weren’t fully convinced. “the only opinions you should care about are your own and the people you love and cherish. i know that’s easier said than done, but it’s true. besides, what you told me just gives me something more to love about you.” natasha finished off with a delicate kiss to your forehead. 

“this means a lot to me, nat. thank you, for everything really.” 

“oh sweetheart i should be thanking you for trusting me with such an important part of you are.” you shied away, a growing smile forming on your face as you leaned into her shoulder.

natahsa smirked, clearly aware of the effect she had on you. “who knew you could be so cute?” 

“nattttt.” 

she rose her hands up in surrender, “alright, alright. i’ll stop on one condition.” 

“what’s that?” you mumbled. 

“would you let me take you out for dinner tonight? i’ll show you just how beautiful it is to be with a woman.” 

“yeah, yes- yes please, that’s fine.” natasha could’ve sworn she heard your heartbeat quicken and she had to refrain from letting out a small laugh at your flustered state. 

“we need to clear that little mind of yours. i’ll be back here at seven on the dot, okay?” a pat on the leg caught your senses as you watched her stand. the last thing natasha heard was the soft “okay” fall from your lips as she walked out the door.

you’d never been happier to be a lesbian in your life by the end of the night. 

[whumpzone]

Linden & Colton - 18

(masterpost)

and so the slow process begins

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, discussions of intelligence

-

Pet- Colton, Colton didn’t realise he’d been asleep until he woke up. He had dreamt of nothing. How he had slept after the stress of yesterday was beyond him.

He suddenly saw Master in his room, a place he’d never been before, stood in the corner waiting for him to wake up and face his punishment. He cried out, pulling himself up and raising his hands protectively.

But-

He blinked. It was a shadow. The gap between the old wardrobe and the wall. Tall, thin, quiet. Just like Master. But Col was alone and he let out a long breath.

Master had probably heard him yell, though. He’d be here soon. So Col wasted no time and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He turned back to tuck his little teddy bear Chu under the covers, where Colton felt it was safe, and headed out into the corridor. Here, he was fair game. He didn’t know why Master never entered his room, but he had stuck to it vigilantly so far. It only made Col feel more aware of his own vulnerability as soon as he stepped through the door.

Master was downstairs, doing a puzzle in the local newspaper, and he looked up as Colton approached. His face brightened into a smile, the biggest he’d ever seen. Master never smiled like that. Col had to fight against the urge to freeze or drop to his knees.

“Good morning, Col,” he said, showing all of his teeth.

Oh, god. Master wanted him to reply. He wanted words, now. He finally knew that Col had been hiding them all this time, and he wanted to delve in, find out how he could twist them and use them to stroke his own ego and entrench his slave’s subordination.

Or perhaps he just wanted to hear his Pet wish him a good morning for the first time. Stop fucking overthinking.

“Good morning,” he ducked his head in reverence, “Master.”

“Wow. I still can’t believe you can speak. I’m so- I’m so proud of you, Col.”

What? Why? “…Please forgive me for not speaking sooner.”

“It’s my fault,” he sighed, which made Col tense up even more. “I just- wow. Where to start? Well, come, sit, have breakfast with me. Cereal?”

He gestured at the box already on the table. Colton obediently sat and took it in his hand with almost no trouble. Master noticed, and nodded happily. He was certainly pleased. It still made Col very uneasy, but he did seem to be doing something right.

He had never heard Master speak in such an excited tone, before. But he was silent while Pet- Col- ugh- made himself his breakfast. He could feel Master’s eyes on him. He was allowed to take the first bite, and then the interrogation began. It was obvious Master had a lot of questions.

“So- okay, first, what made you speak, yesterday? I never asked.”

Colton chewed and swallowed. It helped his throat feel a little smoother, although it was still very rough from disuse. His voice was small and unsure. “You… I saw- I saw Jaffa. At the bottom of the stairs. But I didn’t mean to- I’m n-not accusing you of anything, I know you wouldn’t hurt her I just, I wasn’t sure if you had… seen her, Master.”

He flicked his eyes up to Master, to gage his response. He had just accused Master of being a bad pet owner. Of being neglectful of Jaffa. Master seemed to parse this information, and then smiled.

“She does blend in, doesn’t she? Too bloody well sometimes. I’m so glad you stopped me. And that was so, so kind of you Col. Well done.”

He just nodded, and turned his face away. He supposed…. Master saw it as him looking out for Jaffa, rather than undermining his intelligence. That was a lucky escape for him. He knew that with his old master, any sign of insubordination would have been swiftly beaten out of him.

“Colton,” Col looked up. Master looked scary. Why was he smiling that like? What was he thinking? Col didn’t feel any closer to understanding him. “I know this is new, and I know you’ve not spoken in months. I won’t make you do loads of it, okay? We can take it slowly.”

“Thank you, Master,” he hazarded, although he didn’t see why Master hadn’t just forced him to speak from day one, if he wanted it this badly.

“God, but it makes me realise, I know so little about you. And now- I can ask. And if you want, you can reply. I’m really happy.”

“There’s nothing to know, Master. I’m just a Pet,” he mumbled. The spoon faltered in his hand. Cutlery was still a challenge.

“I know you’ve got a busy brain in there,” Master pointed a slender finger at his slave’s head, to emphasise his point. “I know you’re bursting with thoughts and ideas.”

This made Col look up, properly. An accusation like that came with dire consequences. “No, n-n-no, I’m not, I promise, I exist to serve o-only, I’m just a dumb Pet. Yours to use as you please.” Spoken exactly as his old master had taught him. Well- he would have been belted for stammering. He was out of practice.

Should he kneel? Well, yes, he should, but was it right, when he knew Master liked him on the furniture? But, god, he had to prove his point, he couldn’t let Master think he was starting to rebel, or forget his place.

Bitterly, he thought about how he knew this would happen. This was why Pets didn’t speak.

“Whoa, okay, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant- you’re not stupid, are you? I can tell. And that’s a good thing.”

Col just stared at his hands. He wanted to pause time, step out of his body, and float away. Somewhere without any questions, or expectations, or constant riddles. He was stupid. He knew that much.

Master’s voice brought him back to reality. Glancing at him, Col saw his smile had grown even bigger. His skin prickled.

“I think you’re Welsh.”

“M-Master?”

“You definitely are. You’ve got an accent. You’re Welsh, Col. Wow, now I’m kind of sad. Like, how on earth did you end up here?”

What was he implying? “I’ve… always been a Pet,” Col tried, but it was clear he didn’t believe himself, and from the way Master’s eyebrow slowly raised, he didn’t believe him either.

Colton had always been dimly aware that there was an other him, who had taken up the before-time. He was the one whom his old master had had to train so effectively, he was the one who had all the bad thoughts and urges. Col knew he didn’t start as a Pet. Or else his old master wouldn’t have had to torture him like that for so long.

He was a ghost in Colton’s brain, and Col didn’t know if he was locked away or completely dead. Were parts of him still hiding somewhere, curled up in a place that old master couldn’t ever reach? Or had he been completely laid out and hacked to pieces, until only Col remained. Thinking about it made him want to burst into tears. Some nights, when his mind was loosened by sleep, he felt like he missed him so much.

. . .

Linden didn’t push it. He knew most Pets didn’t retain any memories from before their conditioning. He shouldn’t have asked, really. Just… the realisation that Col had a background, he had lived before becoming the trembling man before him, made Linden ache.

He still wanted to curl up whenever he thought about how long he left it before he realised Col could speak. He hadn’t wanted to push him, there were a myriad of ways he could have been made permanently mute, and he had pretty much fallen into a routine at this point. But the knowledge that all this time, Col was patiently waiting for the chance to talk, probably wondering why Linden wouldn’t let him- oh, christ. He was so embarrassed and ashamed.

He suddenly had so many questions all on the tip of his tongue, that he couldn’t think where to start. He also really didn’t want to bombard the poor boy. But still… just a few, surely, wouldn’t hurt?

“So obviously I’ve named you Colton, but, if you actually do have a name, please tell me. We can use that one instead.”

Colton shook his head. “My name before was- was Pet.”

“Pet?”

“Yes, Master. Or bitch, or, um, mutt. Or toy.”

He hid it well, but Linden could see the shame in Col’s face. At least that meant he realised how fucked up it was.

“Those aren’t fu- those aren’t names,” he growled. “That’s just plain cruel. You don’t deserve that. Do you like being Colton? It’s not too late to choose another name for yourself, love.”

Col waited until he had swallowed down another spoonful of cereal before he spoke. That seemed good, to Linden. He didn’t feel pressured to reply immediately.

“Colton is a nice name, Master. It’s not my place to have likes or dislikes but I, uh, I am happy with it.”

Another quick glance at his face. Linden was getting used to them by now. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jaffa rolling around.

“Likes, dislikes, they’re fine. Don’t worry about that. But if you like the name, then it’s yours until you say otherwise. Oh, and- don’t worry about calling me Master. Honestly.”

Col stopped chewing, his shoulders hunching up suddenly. “I’m sorry, M-, uh, sir, sorry. I didn’t realise I shouldn’t, I’m sorry, I know- know that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed. Sir was fine, he decided. From the way Colton had panicked, he didn’t want to push it any further. “You didn’t know.”

“Thank you, I’m- I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’re fine, you’re good. You’re doing great with talking, Col. I’ll put the kettle on.”

He had long learnt to pick his battles. Hearing Colton talk about being a toy to be used made him fucking sick, but he could tell that sentiment was deeply, deeply ingrained. He knew a recital when he heard one. Those weren’t his words. They were a tiny window into whoever had fucked him up like this.

. . .

Master was sir now, when Colton spoke. Col could learn that. But it didn’t change anything, right? Master still wanted him, didn’t he?

-

as usual, the first half of the taglist:

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread

@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IX

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1574.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V |  Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

________

You didn't know what else to say, feeling ashamed. Who cared about your family circumstances? Definitely not Steve Rogers, a man you met just a couple of weeks ago and who knew nothing about you. Why did you say something like that in the first place?

You didn't wanna look at his face and see him feeling guilty because he didn't know how to comfort you. You didn't need to be comforted. You didn't need anything at all. It was just a simple cold, right?

Despite that, you suddenly started talking from beneath your blankets, "I have a younger brother. When he was born, we found out he was having severe asthma. His childhood was terrible, he had constantly been sick, I remember him being in and out the hospital all the time. Of course, because of his condition, my parents spent most of the time with him. He was just a little sick kid."

You hated yourself for talking, for showing something to Steve he shouldn't have known because he wasn't your friend, but you couldn't force yourself to stop.

"On the other hand, I am lucky to have good health. I didn't really got very sick, so, well, I didn't need help like my brother. So, I'm used to taking of myself. I'm a big girl, I don't need my mom to dance around me just because I have a cold."

Of course, you didn’t. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and even of Steve didn't show up, you'd be alright by yourself. You'd just take your acetaminophen, and then everything would be ok.

You kept silent, staring at the inside of the blanket and wishing Steve would just disappear, leaving you to your misery. You didn’t see his face, and you were glad you didn't. What he must think about you? That you were craving for his attention like a spoiled kid? Shit, it was so embarrassing. You were an adult, for goodness sake!

"I don't know about you, but when I had a flu sachet, it would make me fall asleep really quick. And when I was feeling sleepy, I would start thinking about the things I loved most because I hoped I would see them in a dream." Instead of feeling ever more ashamed, you listened to Steve's soft voice and thought you were lucky it was him being here with you now. "It actually worked, and I have been having my best dreams when I was asleep, sick. What are the things you love most?"

Surprised, you looked up at him and saw the most gentle expression on a face of a guy you had ever met. Why did he look at you like that? Why was there no pity on his face? Why was it making you cry like you were a ten year old kid? Before he could see anything, you hid beneath the blanket again and kept silent for a couple of moments to calm down.

"I love lemon pies my grandma used to make me, and her garden. She had tomatoes and cabbage and strawberries that smelled like summer. I loved watering them nearly every day because I thought I was a little forest witch who lived in her pretty cottage in the woods."

You didn't know why you were telling him this, but Steve has a strange effect on you. Or was it cold? You had no idea, but it didn’t really matter. All you were thinking about was the way fresh tomatoes smell when you'd leaned down to water them, and the sound of bees flying above strawberry's flowers. Your grandma was taking care of her cabbage - a very capricious guest in her garden - and you could hear her working, cursing grandpa for making the patches too wide in that funny voice of hers. Then she'd stood up, wiped the sweat with the back of her hand, and called you to come back to the cottage because if was time for dinner. You'd run to wash your hands in a barrel of water near the big apple tree when grandma didn't see, and soon you were sitting with her, eating her famous cabbage soup and then having a piece of a lemon pie because you worked so well today.

You could almost feel the taste on the tip of your tongue.

By the time you woke up, Steve was long gone: it was the middle of the night, and instead of him you saw a thermos with a still warm chicken soup on a chair, waiting for you. He sent you a message that you could call him at any time of the day - or night - and that he wanted you to have a bit more sleep to get better. After you had a few more sips of his soup, you fell asleep again, feeling warm and fuzzy.

_______

The weekend went fast. It was the first time in several years you spent so much time in bed. Steve kept appearing at your door from time to time with a new bags of food despite you telling him you had your own, but he always insisted you should it something fresh and warm. Surprisingly, he wasn't the only one at your door: Thor suddenly showed up with his whole team, bringing you notes for the upcoming exams they collected altogether, apparently. Loki sent you a message if you needed anything, and Peter left contacted you on Instagram, leaving you links to games you could play so you wouldn't feel bored. Even Bucky gave you a call, asking if he could come and give you a few packs of Neo Citran for your cold, but you kindly refused: Steve literally brought you a yearly supply of this.

It was strange. Of course, when you were in high school, your friends grew worried about you when you had been sick, but there was nothing else to it. Wasn't it always like this? Nobody came to see you. Nobody brought you soup or gave you meds or anything. Despite feeling embarrassed, you realized you actually liked it when somebody was close to you like that. It was comforting seeing Steve popping up and not having to worry about how pretty you looked: he laughed when he saw you getting all shy because you were in your pyjamas. He said he definitely didn't expect you laying on your bed in an evening gown.

Before you realized it, you were already getting better. It was just a cold, really. Soon your throat was no longer sore, and while you were still sneezing, your temperature dropped down to normal, so on Monday you were ready to come back to school as planned. Funny enough, you no longer cared if you passed your exams, having 100%. You didn’t talk about it with Steve, but Peter was laughing like crazy about that when you told him.

Funny. They no longer looked so scary to you. They were just a couple of boys, weren't they? Regardless all those scary rumors and stuff, they were just guys. Maybe they were weird and stupid and a little bit scary because you didn't know them, they were still alright. Thor said it to you, didn't he?

Monday was Bucky's day, so, once you were done dressing, he nocked at your door: you were feeling a bit shy, watching him in that leather jacket and torn jeans he kept wearing the whole year around, apparently. Barnes looked like a teenage girl's dream. He smelled like cigarettes - although he said he was trying to quit - and pinewood. Just like Thor, he liked to skip classes he didn't enjoy much, but he was smart enough to pass the exams. Funny enough, he had a motorcycle.

Again, you wondered how come girls weren't coming from a city on a bus just to go see him.

"Are you sure you’re feeling better?" He asked you softly. "You can stay home today."

"No, no, I'm perfectly alright, thank you! How are you?" Smiling, you closed the door and hid the key in your bag.

"I'm good, thank you."

He didn't speak much, but as you walked in silence, you thought it was comforting - not talking at all and feeling good about it. While Bucky looked like a scary biker, in fact, his calm and friendly demeanor only helped you relax around him. Besides, it was funny how students seemed to give him way whenever they saw him, and you thought if Steve was the King, then Bucky was the Knight.

Before you went into the your classroom, he suddenly stopped you, "Listen, I wanted to say I have your stuff."

You blinked, "What stuff?"

You didn't give him any of your stuff. Actually, after Steve gathered you all in the student council room, you only met Bucky this morning for the first time.

"The stuff those freaks took. Your... your clothes, I mean." He muttered under his breath, and you gaped at him.

Your underwear. He found your bra and panties those guys took from your room.

"Wait... how?" Staring at Bucky who, apparently, was feeling a bit embarrassed talking about it, you thought how on Earth he got those things.

There was only one way he could, right?

"Bucky, was it you who beat those guys?"

It took him a couple of seconds to turn his face to you and then sigh, "Yes, it was me."

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks @teabutnerdy ​ @srrymydood @crazylittlereader2474

[moonctzeny]

baby, we're two strangers

pairing: jeong jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2,255

summary: "When you attend your company's black mask party, you expect free booze and boring small talk with your co-workers. What you don't expect is to meet a cute stranger, who's more than willing to take you out of your misery. You don't know anything about him, not even his name, only the two deep dimples adorning his cheeks"

warnings:  alcohol consumption, fingering, cunnilingus, smut in public (what else did you expect from me), jaehyun is a little on the subbier side at some point(??) but not really

a/n: happy birthday to our precious jaehyun! hope you like this anon, sorry it took so long :(

You always thought those business parties were a pain in the ass. You barely managed to go through 5 days a week with your co-workers without committing first degree murder, now you had to see them during your precious weekends too? The thought of you starting small talk with the lady at the front desk, or having to laugh with your boss’s terrible humour all night made you sick to your stomach. But alas, you know how much your supervisor loved those kinds of parties, and your wallet needed that promotion. He’d lecture you about how they cultivate group spirit and strengthen the company’s teamwork. You just saw it as an excuse to get drunk free of charge.

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you spot a stray hair that escaped the adhesion of your new hairspray, and you quickly brush it to place with your fingers. Your favourite black dress hugged your body, simple jewellery decorated your skin. You don’t even know why you bothered with eye makeup, the obligatory black mask for tonight’s dress code hiding most of your face already, with the exception of your red lipstick. You wonder whether the people who just quickly rushed by you in the hallways, too focused on their own deadlines and to-do lists would even recognize you.

The party was boring, just like you predicted. You’d given up long ago in trying to keep the conversation going with Matt from the IT department (who proved to be the most boring man on earth, apparently) and planted yourself right next to the booze table. You had your own little wine tasting party in the past hour, trying aged drinks from 10 years ago up to vins ordinaires. The alcohol relaxed your muscles and left a pleasant buzz in your head, effectively drowning out the dj’s playlist that only had hit songs from 2016. You were content in your solitude, satisfied with just staring at your co-workers interacting with each other, noticing who disliked who, who were the funny ones, who needed help with social interactions. But your comfortable loneliness wouldn’t last for long. 

“Mind if I join you?”

Ugh. Just what you needed. Matt from the IT department probably told his buddy, Ben - who keeps rudely staring at your skirts at work - that you’re here and informed him about your location. Maybe if you ignored him he would go away. Or maybe you’d just tell him that you suddenly need to go to the bathroom. Had he ever heard you speak? You wonder if he’d believe you if you told him you were deaf, actually.

You turned around to face the man, hoping that he didn’t know sign language when you finally made eye contact with him. This definitely wasn’t Ben. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life.

He was tall, with loose curls adorning the top of his head. His porcelain skin seemed to absorb all the light in the room, then send it out three times as bright. He looked fit, his small waist cinched in with the buttons of his suit, filled in fully in all the right places. You could only manage a deranged hum that barely sounded human. 

Through the small holes of the black mask he was also wearing, you can tell he was staring at you. You tried to keep the eye contact but failed miserably, your heart picking up a pace that sure can’t be healthy.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around. Do you work in the IT department on the bottom floor, maybe?”

You clear your throat, begging the wine in your system not to mess this up for you by making a fool of yourself. “I also work on the top floor. Maybe you just didn’t notice me before.”

“No no”, he insists, taking a sip from his drink as well while raking up and down at you with his eyes, “I would definitely remember”.

Your cheeks are burning up at this point and you leave your drink at the table, not trusting your clammy hands to not drop the 2017 Merlot all over the floor. You were done acting like boo boo the fool. You weren’t gonna let this one slip away.

“It’s weird, I don’t remember you either. And you seem like such nice company”

He smiles at your reciprocation and you almost gasp at the appearance of two deep dimples on his cheeks, framing his lovely smile. He looks like a mixture of a prince and what you pictured Edward Cullen to look like when you were reading The Twilight Saga as a teenager.

“What department do you work at, then?”

You have to roll your eyes. The wine has made you a little impatient, and the heat of your body was getting hard to ignore.

“Here’s the thing Dimples, one thing I really fucking hate is small talk. So how about you really entertain me out of this boring party?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden confidence, yet amused either way. He doesn’t miss the fact that you’re the one checking him out now, your whole body leaning against him.

“I figured I should be a gentleman first”

“I don’t want a gentleman. I need a distraction”

He flashes you those dimples again and you get the sudden urge to tackle him.

“I see. Wanna get out of here?”

You didn’t need to hear more. Taking his hand, you lead the mysterious stranger outside the hall area the party was held at, finding an empty bathroom. You felt naughty dragging a man - a stranger at that - to a place like this, reminding you of your days as a teenager. A cold breeze sneaking through the little window spread goosebumps all over the skin of your legs that was uncovered by your short dress, yet you were hyper aware of the heat emitted from the man’s body.

The moment your hands left the rotating lock, you felt his body towering over yours, then the pressure of his soft lips. He tasted sweet, like the liquor he had enjoyed earlier, his hands snaking around your waist to bring you even closer against him. You kissed with vigor and a passion that was burning in your belly, and you suck on his tongue to show him a sneak peek of your talents. He moans in your mouth, a deep rumble that you gladly swallow up, your fingers tugging on his locks in hope you get another one out of him.

You do, and he’s had enough, wrapping his hands around your legs and lifting you up on the counter. He’s sitting right between your legs, right where you want him most, and your dress has now well ridden up, only one layer between you. He seems to be thinking the same thing as his teeth are breaking the skin of your neck, one hand behind you on the mirror, staining the glass.

“Can I make you feel good?”, he asks with a voice filled with arousal and the want to please. In that moment, you wanted to moan out his name, followed by a ‘yes, please’ but you realised you never asked for it, and it didn’t really matter at this point. 

You nod back pleadingly, your eyes watery with how much you’re desperate for any sort of friction. He lifts the hand that had been kneading the soft skin of your hips, and places his thumb right over your lips. Like a reflex, your tongue peeks out from between your teeth, tasting the saltines of his finger. He moves it further inside, satisfied with the feeling and your tongue dancing around it, and when he has finally pushed half of it in you start to suckle the digit. 

The stranger’s eyes haven’t left your lips for a second, completely mesmerized by your mouth’s work and he messes up your red lipstick a bit, dragging his finger down your chin, leaving a red line behind. Dipping his thumb back in your mouth again, he lets you suck a little more until you have coated it with a satisfying amount of spit, then brings it right over your panties.

They are cotton, dampened from the moisture of his fingers and your own arousal. He applies pressure right over your clit, just enough to see you squirm on that counter, then continues to draw figure eights over the fabric. His finger dips in your opening on the lower curve of the number and you feel yourself get wetter, holding on tightly to the man’s broad shoulders and moaning in satisfaction.

He shuts you up with a kiss, nibbling on your lower lip as he pushes you panties aside, and you’re a little embarrassed with the printed watermelons they have on them. He toys with you a little, spreading your wetness around before finally dipping in, smirking at the way your head falls back. 

The heels of your feet are sitting stubbornly on the marble surface of the counter, knees next to your shoulders to give your new friend as much access as he needed. There was no time for you to be ashamed for showing him all of you, the pleasure was overflowing and ripping out your seams. He starts a trail of kisses from the junction of your next, sucking and licking his way to your chest, and frees one of your boobs with his other hand. The cold and arousal has your nipple stay erect and he seems to enjoy the view, sucking lightly and then harshly, while following the same pace petting your pussy. 

“Am I a good company?”, he asks you then, and you’d expect his tone to be teasing but it’s anything but. He’s looking back at you with wide eyes, expecting your feedback and you pet his hair, lowering his head down with the tiniest bit of pressure so that his mouth reconnects with your chest.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods eagerly and you lift him up with the collar of his shirt, and you know his expensive cologne will dwell on your fingers after you’re done. You bring him into a kiss, tasting his lips before you whisper over them.

“Then you have to try a little harder”

You could practically see the determination in his eyes, and he wastes no time as he immediately gets on his knees. His breath is cool over your hot core, the feeling sending tingles down your spine. The anticipation is so high that when his tongue finally comes in contact with your sensitivity you almost yelp. 

His talent isn’t limited to his fingers, you think as he leaves kitten licks over your clit, giving the bundle of nerves a gentle suck periodically. Just as you’re getting used to the soothing circles of his tongue he dips one more finger in, successfully stretching you open and you bite your hand to stifle your moans. You’re worried that your wetness will drip down to the floor but then you’re reminded of your panties, the friction of the fabric stimulating you even more. 

“I’m gonna cum”, you moan in a high pitched tone, bracing both you and the man feasting over you on his knees. One last suck and you’re thrown over the edge, legs shaking as you’re desperately trying to hold yourself in place, before you fall or crush his head with your thighs. He lets you ride out your high, still dipping his fingers in and out slowly, prolonging your pleasure as much as possible. When you both feel like you’re done he gets up again, drying up his chin that is wet with your come. The tent in his slacks is painfully visible, and you rub over it seductively as you also rub your still exposed nipple.

“How about I pay you back”

The stranger doesn’t have time to answer, a loud knock making you both jump in shock and you quickly get decent again.

“Is someone still in there? I really need to use the bathroom”

“Coming!”

“Yes!”

You facepalm at the dumb mistake, exposing yourselves so easily at the man on the other side of the door. He lets out a rumbling laugh, and if there was really such a thing as ‘the end of the world’ you wish to any god out there that it happens right now.

“Ahh, I get what’s going on. You keep at it kids, another bathroom became available just now. And use protection!”

You bury your face in the stranger’s shoulder, and you feel him laugh silently at the ridiculousness of the situation. He opens the door just a slither, and when he makes sure no one is waiting for you outside the bathroom, he leads you back to the main hallway.

“So that was…”

“...hot”, he finishes your sentence with a naughty smile and you swear those dimples are gonna kill you.

“My name is y/n”, you say and firmly shake his hand, the gesture too formal compared to the things you’ve just finished doing together, “I still want to thank you for that, if you do too, of course”

“Jaehyun”, he says right back, then rubs the skin right under your lips with his thumb, and his fingertip comes back red. “Sorry for that, I got a bit carried away. You have nice lips.”

“Thank you, Jaehyun”

[harmfulot]

Hi!! Before you read this or try to take this down please just consider reading this instead of being so hateful. I don’t mean to spread hate onto any shippers but I do believe that Inuyasha’s fandom has a major problem that needs to be addressed. Trigger warning for pedophila,child p*rn and grooming.

Why Sessrin is problematic.

Sessrin is a very popular ship among the Inuyasha community. If you are a shipper of this pair you won’t have to worry for lack of content for it. Rin is a injured child character that is introduced in the original Inuyasha manga in issue 14. She meets Sesshomaru in the forest and even though she is going through a lot at such a young age her kind self still tries to help him out. Sesshomaru at first does not care for this child who is tending to him. He tells her to mind her business and has her leave. Soon after Rin is killed by Kouga’s pack of wolves and Sesshomaru with his demon power scented her blood and comes to save her with his Tenseiga. After this Sessshomaru decides to take in Rin and protect her even though he had a hatred for humans. A “similarly” shippers like to compare Inuyasha and Kagome’s relationship with but their relationship is not written with romantic tensions..

The reason why Rin was written and VERY important in Inuyasha is because she is the reason why Sesshomaru became a better person. He no longer hated humans or wanted to go against his brother. This broken human child Rin looked up to Sesshomaru who was a powerful older demon. Sesshomaru grew a soft side and it was because of her caring innocence. You could easily see their connection as father and daughter or Sesshomaru as a guardian for her. Never did he have the thought of getting with her when she got older and Rin never developed a crush on him. Why? Because she is a child who lost her parents and now has this person who protects her like one. People may say that Jaken was the father figure for Rin but I don’t agree because unlike Sesshomaru he did not care for Rin and only handled her to please his lord. Jaken would call Rin many negative things and go off at her. Rin was annoyed by Jaken. He is certainly not a parent figure for her. Sesshomaru provided a stay aside him to lead for Rin which she followed. Rin was no longer alone. She had Sesshomaru’s company now. Even if he was not very good at taking care of her he never wanted her to get hurt or killed again. He is new to this “taking care of people” thing after all especially humans...young humans. Sessrin would destroy the growth of Sesshomaru because it can’t be denyed that their relationship represents this much more than a romance waiting to happen. When Kagura came along Rin told Jaken joyfully she bet Kagura had a crush on Sesshomaru this small moment reminds you she a is a child that lost her parents and could be seeing this as a opportunity for Kagura to become her adoptive mother. And most Sesshomaru cosplayers would use their daughter to cosplay for Rin. Usually making the picture taken seem like Sesshomaru is protecting Rin or having them both share a cute bonding moment. Why? Because that is how their relationship is meant to be established. For a Sessrin cosplay to work people would have to age up Rin and her design or else the cosplayers would receive negative feedback. Now moving on to how aging up Rin is not okay either.

People claim they only would like to see these two get together once Rin is older but that is almost as bad as shipping Sessrin while she is a child. Sesshomaru saw Rin grow up. He raised her for a while as his own this needs to stop being denied in the fandom. For Sesshomaru to impregnate Rin is out of character. And seems like a sick fanasty. He is not that kind of character. He wouldn’t touch Rin in that matter. Even if she was in her late 20’s. He respected child Rin and would still respect her older. Sessrin is like if a babysitter got together with the person they use to take care of as a kid. It’s disturbing!! Not cute. Rin does not deserve to be fedished.

It’s actually terrifying how much child p*rn there is of Rin. I feel so ashamed by even coming across one by mistake. Don’t use the excuse that Rin is a fictional character. Enough with that excuse. Let’s throw that excuse away. That excuse of “it’s fictional it does not matter..” only works for certain things like when someone assigns headcanons for their favorite character or ships a non-canon pair that isn’t problematic. Not when we are speaking of drawing nsfw of a fictional child. And fictional or not. Rin is a child and every grown person who has drawn smut of her should be ashamed and even arrested. If you see a fictional child in this matter what knows what could you lead you up to see an actual kid as this too. It’s a big problem because there are so many people who have gotten away with this. It’s so easy to find a image of child Rin without any of her clothes on or being r*ped by Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru would never r*pe anyone. It’s quite sad. Kagome was saved from being sexually assaulted by Mukostu because of Sesshomaru. People has even brought doujinshi comics of Sessrin making love or may I call it child p*rn in disguise? Be honest with yourself. It really is just that.

Everyone finding out would be horrified. Excluding Hanyo No Yashahime which majorly changed the characters. Sesshomaru and Rin being together would make everyone uncomfortable even Miroku who has before asked a child if she would bare his kid. Which Inuyasha,Kagome,and Sango reacted very badly to. And was yelled at for it. They do not tolerate pedos nor grooming. Kagome especially would be against. She referred Rin as the girl many times and puzzled together that Sesshomaru took care for Rin. Many people bring up that Kouga proposed to Ayame when she was a kid but remember that was never in the original. Sunrise created Ayame and added this other plot in order for Kouga to have someone at the end. Which is sad because this could have worked if Ayame met Kouga and gained a crush on him instead. She was a cute character after all. In the manga Kouga remains by himself since Kagome stayed with Inuyasha. Now I am definitely not a fan of Kouga and Ayame. I despise the fact Sunrise only created her to be Kouga’s romance interest but having him tell her he would marry her once she was older was even worse. This was a choice Sunrise made not Kouga’s original character. The reason why Kagome does not call out Kouga on this is because she did not know Ayame was a child at the time he proposed. He never mentioned it but if he did I’m certain Kagome would have not tried to keep setting them up together knowing this information. And just a reminder that even in real life some Inuyasha voice actors such as Richard Ian Cox and David Kaye voice actor for Sesshomaru does not support Sessrin. Adding on shipping Rin with Sesshomaru is like shipping Shippo with Inuyasha or Kagome. Weird right?? In the Manga Sesshomaru’s Mother Inukimi says that Sesshomaru is like his father in the strangest of ways after saving Rin again. No this doesn’t mean that he will soon come to love her romantically because Inukimi did add “In the strangest of ways” and refers to Rin as a girl like Kagome. She means that Sesshomaru had now changed and that he cared about someone who was a human like his dad who also cared for them even though they are both demons.

It’s funny how the sequel claims girl power but does not know how to treat it’s female characters. Kagome and Sango are both introduced as Inuyasha and Miroku’s wives instead of their actual character. Now if you not a woman please do not have a say in this unless you wish to agree but this is very sexist Sunrise. I’m not exaggerating how upsetting and disrespectful it is to see you introduce these strong main female role models like this. Inuyasha and Miroku were not titled as husbands of...so why were Kagome and Sango? I’m sure 99% of audience would know who is married to who. Women are not objects or tools Sunrise. Kagome is the main character of Inuyasha even if his name is on title. She is the reason why got to meet these characters. Sunrise has done female characters dirty many times like making Ayame obessed with Kouga when she could have been a neat character but what they did to Rin takes the cake. Rin is introduced as “The girl who adores Sesshomaru” but apparently now that girl is the mother of his children. Shame on you Sunrise!! We only saw Rin ever as a child even when series ended aging her up to become Sesshomaru’s wife without knowing how she is as a grown person is not a good example for your younger female audience to view. This could have been avoided.

Even though I’m a minor who only been in this fandom for half a year I gather a lot of knowledge of how far this fandom goes. It was definitely most popular around early 2000’s and many say it was their first anime with their first anime crush being Sesshomaru. Inuyasha was an anime I did not look content for till later after finishing season 2. When I discovered Sessrin I was real confused and thought to myself it was just a small part of the fandom but I could have been more wrong. Many accounts I followed that involved Inuyasha shipped Sessrin. Even after finishing many Inuyasha episodes I was very confused on why this was a thing and how could have it gotten so big. I thought something magical would have happened like Rin turning out to be someone much older but that never happened. I was wrong. This ship is just pedophila and nothing else. And I’m sure if Sesshomaru wasn’t “attractive” Sessrin wouldn’t be big. Going back to people crushing on Sesshomaru when they were younger I’m sure the reason Sessrin is not more discussed about for how toxic it is online is because besides people being scared,people like to insert themselves as Rin but this has to stop. Adults should not pair a child and grown up together even if the child is now grown. Especially grown ups with kids. This is not good example to set for your kids. I’ve seen many minors being harassed online for disliking Sessrin by adults. Which is super immature and should be in trouble for. Netruals must know that is not a ship war because there have been people who have gotten horrible hate and were told very graphic things by Sessrin shippers. ( By the way I’m sorry to anyone who has been hurt online even Sessrin shippers. I do not support Sessrin but no one should be told awful things. ) Many Inuyasha fans which dislike Sessrin have left Twitter and Tumblr because of how much hate they have gotten. This is not okay. People should be able to voice their opinion on something without being told to commit s*icide or hoping they get r*ped.

And your point? This sequel is being written in the 21th century. We could write it however we please not everything has to be “accurate” and also this state is just supporting the idea of children being wed with a grown up was okay before because the age of consent was different. Ugh..but this claim is just another excuse. Please stop using it. Many things in the past were allowed which wouldn’t be allowed today. So no this is not a valid reason to ship Rin with Sesshomaru.

Sunrise should not be off the hook for using child Rin clips for the opening as the daughters are shown. It was a wrong decision to make them seem like “moments” since now many actual pedophiles will support this pair as well. Even before this continuing was announced Sessrin was a big thing and “adult Rin” was not. Sunrise should not be supporting Sessrin at all. Nor anyone in the Inuyasha crew. They have many young fans watching and supporting this anime and they are being influenced and will grow up to think grooming is okay when it’s not. Again in 2021 this can not be allowed and it shouldn’t have ever. This sequel was not necessary. The anime ended fine.

If Rin is the mom I will no longer support Hanyo No Yashahime. I’m sorry but I will sadly have to drop it. There are a lot of reasons why Sessrin should not be a thing and Sunrise should know many themselves,because they have joined along these character’s journeys and seen through scripts who they are. And what Sessrin is pedophila and grooming that happened to get a lot of support which is why it is hard to find more people within online media discuss it. I sure do hope it does because I am tired of seeing only few doing it. We need more awareness of how problematic grooming pairs are in anime media. No more portraying children to grow up as romance interests for people they were raised by. Let’s keep Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship wholesome. There is no need for them to get together. At the end of the day Rin owns Sesshomaru nothing and he knows that. Let’s start viewing them from a different point of view. Let’s see more fanart of them acting like father and daughter. I love that. Thank you and have a good day.

[babymetaldoll]

Crybaby (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Yes!

Reader cries a lot. Over movies, puppies, insults, because she’s sensitive, and like when babies cry. So she was always called crybaby for years. So when Spencer sees that she’s crying secretly because she thinks Spencer is gonna break up with her, Spencer (with the help of Penelope and Morgan) made a boyfriend Hoodie that says “I love my crybaby.”

A/N: Hello!! I got this request a few weeks ago, and I’ve been trying to write it right. I hope you like it! Also, in my mind, this is season one Spencer, the dorkiest and the cutest. But, of course, you can picture your fav Reid 💜

Category: Hardcore fluff

Summary: Reader is embarrassed ’cos she thinks she cries too much, and Spencer just wants to show her he loves her no matter what. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Word count: 1,8K

Warning: Prepare yourself ‘cos there is some hardcore fluff going on in here.

Masterlist

*

Spencer Reid walked into his apartment and took off his jacket, shoes and loosened his tie. He left his satchel on a chair and sighed. He was weary after a long day.

- “(Y/N)! I’m home!”- he looked for her as he walked around the place. No one in the kitchen

- “Boo? where are you?”- no one in the bedroom either.

That was weird. Reid had called his girlfriend earlier, and she had said she’d wait for him in his apartment. She was already there making dinner for them.

The pots were on the stove, the house smelled delicious (mushroom curry, Spencer guessed), but there was no sign of his girlfriend anywhere.

Until he heard a soft sob coming from the bathroom.

- “Boo? what are you doing here?”- he whispered as he walked in and found (Y/N) sitting inside the tub, wrapping her arms around her legs, hiding her face.

- “Nothing… I’m ok.”- she murmured so softly, Spencer almost couldn’t hear her.

- “Babe, you are crying. What happened?”- (Y/N) sobbed and shook her head.

- “Really, it’s nothing… I’m ok”- Spencer kneeled outside the tub and caressed her hair softly.

- “Come on, you are obviously upset. Please, trust me.”

His voice was sweet and caring, just like his hands felt playing with her hair.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment. She was honestly embarrassed to tell him what was going on. She felt she was stupid for crying over something so silly. But still, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

- “Promise me you won’t get mad,”- she murmured, her voice muffled against her legs.

- “I would never get mad at you! You know it. What happened?”- (Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at Spencer. He was so worried. His heart broke just to think something was bothering her that she felt she couldn’t share with him.

- “I was talking to Nikki over the phone earlier. I haven’t seen her in a while, and I wanted to catch up”- Spencer nodded as (Y/N) spoke very quickly- “And she asked about you. I told her you’d had a lot of work lately, so I wanted to wait for you with a nice dinner. And she laughed and told me I was the worst cook on earth and that you would definitely laugh at my cooking.”

Spencer wide opened his eyes as he saw her girlfriend’s tears still falling down her cheeks.

- “And I wanted to tell her I’ve gotten a lot better at cooking ‘cos I’ve got all these recipe books now, but I started crying instead. So she just laughed again and said that you would probably dump me for my bad cooking or because I’m a crybaby.”

- “What?!”- Spencer nearly yelled- “What is she talking about? you are not a crybaby!”

- “Yes, I am”- (Y/N) sobbed and covered her face with both hands- “Look at me! my friend told me I couldn’t cook, and I’ve been sitting in your tub for an hour!”

Yes. (Y/N) cried a lot. Spencer knew it, though she had tried to keep it from him ever since they started dating.

But you don’t date a profiler and successfully keep those kinds of things from him. Spencer knew his girlfriend cried a lot.

She had cried on their first date, at the end of the movie they saw. That was when Spencer realized how much he liked her.

(Y/N) cried every time she saw a cute kitten video on Instagram. The ones about abandoned cats that were adopted by loving families that changed their lives were the worst. She would sob.

She cried with every single book she read. Spencer loved that.

(Y/N) had cried the first time he told her he loved her.

She could cry over any Dr. Who episode they saw. Actually, they couldn’t watch any episode with Ten and Rose because (Y/N) would start crying within minutes.

And she was embarrassed, ‘cos people had always made fun of her and called her “crybaby.” Even her friends. So when Nikki teased her about Spencer breaking up with her because she cried a lot, it just made sense.

Who would like to date a crybaby?

Spencer Reid, of course.

Spencer was surrounded daily with death and murders. The darkest side of the world. That meant that having someone as pure and loving as (Y/N), who would literally cry of happiness when she saw him after a case, gave him hope. There were still good people out there. Good people who cried over the little things, ‘cos they cared. ‘Cos they were moved. ‘Cos they weren’t afraid to show their feelings.

Reid sighed and ran his fingers down (Y/N)’s hair sweetly. She was still sobbing, and his chest tightened at the idea of his sweet girlfriend being in pain.

- “Is there room in that tub for me?”- he whispered as he took out his shoes and stepped into the bathtub. Spencer sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her neck several times; his voice was a soft coo in his girlfriend’s ear.

- “I love you, (Y/N). All of you, including when you cry.”

- “But I cry over everything.”

- “That’s what I love the most about you”- he whispered and kissed her cheeks, intertwining his fingers with hers as he held her hands.

- “You are not a crybaby, and if anything, you are my baby. I love you so much, Boo”- (Y/N) shook her head and felt Spencer kissing her neck again.

- “I love you, (Y/N)”- he repeated and sighed- “You don’t know how much you mean to me.”

*

Spencer was sitting at his desk, staring at the empty space in front of him. He couldn’t take his mind from his girlfriend. Reid had never seen her that upset before. He felt he needed to make sure she knew how much he loved her and that crying didn’t bother him. On the contrary, he loved it.

- “Hey, Pretty boy. What’s in your mind?”- Morgan waved from his desk, and just Spencer shook his head.

- “Nothing”- Derek narrowed his brows and stood up.

- “You haven’t gotten any work done in over half an hour.”

- “What? are you timing my work now?”- Spencer answered, confused and in a high-pitched voice. He was getting annoyed easily ‘cos he was honestly upset.

- “No, I’m just saying there is clearly something bothering you. Everything ok?”

- “Yeah… I mean”- Reid sighed and looked at Morgan- “I just… think I need to talk to Garcia about it.”

- “Is it about (Y/N)? did you fight with your pretty girl?”

- “No, that’s not it.”

- “Then?”- Reid looked around. No one else was paying attention to their conversations.

- “She… we… it’s complicated”- Spencer sighed. If there was someone who could help him, that was Penelope García.

- “My poor baby!!”- Penelope wide opened her eyes as soon as Spencer finished telling her the story.

- “I’m ok, García”- he whispered and felt how his friend smacked her hand against his arm- “Auch!!”

- “I’m talking about (Y/N), genius!! I can’t believe people make fun of her for crying too much!!”

- “Well, if she really does cry over everything, I….”- Morgan stopped talking the second he noticed both Penelope and Spencer looked at him in shock.

- “No! I would never tease her about it”- he started explaining right away- “What I’m trying to say is that I can understand why some people might find that... Anyway. How can we help you?”

- “I need to find a way to make her feel I loved all the time,”- Spencer whispered, embarrassed- “I just need to show her I don’t care if she cries. I love her. I love everything about her. And being someone sensitive shouldn’t be something to be embarrassed about.”

- “Awww, my baby genius!”- Garcia wrapped an arm around Spencer and played with his hair for a second- “You are so sweet with your girlfriend.”

- “Well, I love her….”- he murmured, still ashamed to share his feelings so openly with his friends.

- “Then I’ve got an idea! And you are going to be on board with this, ‘cos it’s the best idea I’ve ever had!”- Penelope sentenced and clapped his hands, already excited.

*

- “Spencer!!”- (Y/N) walked into his apartment and waited for his reply- “I’m here!”

- “In the bedroom!!”- Spencer yelled and smiled in anticipation of what he wanted to show his girlfriend.

- “Hey!”- (Y/N) found him sitting on his bed, covered by a gigantic blanket- “What are you doing here? Are you cold? Do you feel sick? do you need anything?”

- “No, Boo, no”- Spencer quickly shook his head and smiled- “I’m fine. Just come here”- he tapped on the bed with a warm smile. (Y/N) sat next to him and frowned, confused.

- “I got you a present,”- Reid announced and pointed at a box by his side.

- “Why? I mean, thank you”- (Y/N) quickly replied, still confused. Spencer smiled, staring at her. The girl opened the present and widened her eyes in excitement as soon as she saw a pink polaroid camera.

- “This is amazing!!”- (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Spencer tight and leaned in to kiss his lips sweetly- “Thank you so much.”

- “I’m happy you like it, Boo.”

- “Why am I getting a new camera, by the way?”

- “Well…”- Spencer moved carefully closer to her and kissed her cheeks softly before saying.

- “I am away so often I thought we should take more pictures to carry with me. And that you can have with you all the time too.”

(Y/N) bit her lips, fighting the tears that were filling her eyes all of a sudden. (Y/N) could feel her chin quivering with each word Spencer said. She didn’t want to cry and embarrass herself in front of her boyfriend again.

But what he was saying was so sweet, she couldn’t help it.

- “Why don’t we take a picture now?”- he suggested, but she shook her head- “Why not?”

- “Because...”- (Y/N) took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She really didn’t want to cry in front of Reid.

- “Come on! Let’s take a picture with my new hoodie”- Spencer chuckled and removed the blanket that covered him. (Y/N) burst out laughing as soon as she saw it: Reid had a purple hoodie on with a cartoon of the two of them hugging and on top of it the phrase “I love my crybaby.”

- “What on earth?! Why? When did you...?”- (Y/N) chuckled and sobbed at the same time. Spencer opened his arms and wrapped them around her.

- “I love you, baby”- he whispered and kissed her cheek several times- “Now there’s no way you are going to forget it, ‘cos we are going to take a million pictures with this hoodie on, and I’m also never going to take it off again.”

- “I love you so much, Spencer”- (Y/N) pouted and kissed his lips over and over again.

- “I love you more”- he whispered against her lips- “You are my baby. Just mine, ok?”- (Y/N) nodded and giggled, kissing him again.

- “Your crybaby?”- she asked and he agreed, kissing her again.

- “My crybaby.”

*********

Taglist: @all-tings-diego​  @meowiemari​

[pure-kirarin]

Sanji x reader [comfort] (TW)

A/N : Major TW, mention of relapse

Soooo, I have been doing not so good lately so I indulged in some Sanji comfort. I like writing these because they help me visualize how I’d like to be helped, and I thought about sharing, for everyone who needs a bit of comfort and love in these hard times. Sanji is definitely one of my comfort characters haha. 

So, never give up, if it’s a bad day, a bad week, but it’s never a bad life. Sanji believes in you ! and me too. You are worthy and loved. 

----------------------------------------- No matter for how long you have scrubbed your skin, nothing made that feeling of filth disappear. You felt extremely dirty, unworthy of being seen, unworthy of being loved. Your hair was skill wet, droplets of water were dripping on your neck and cheeks, mixing with your tears. You felt extremely down, how did you pretend to be a pirate while you were struggling with such problems ? You felt like an imposter, like a joke, like you were too sensitive for the life you wanted to persue. How could you want to help your crew mates if you weren't even able to help yourself ? You proceeded to comb your hair with obsessive movements, trying to calm yourself down. You gave in to that demon again and you felt ashamed for it. Suddenly, a voice snatched you out from the comfort of your dark thoughts ; a familiar one. It was Sanji. You felt even worse that it was him finding you in this situation. You felt pathetic. How could you face him after doing what you have done ? How did you even have the courage to look him in the eyes after being so wasteful ? He called your name before going in your room to check on you, as usual. He blushed seeing you with only a towel around your body. He have seen you in your most natural state before, but it never failed to astonish him. He hesitated, then noticed that you didn't look your best. You held your tears the best that you could by putting a small towel on your hair, hiding your eyes.

« - (Y/N)-san I hope that I am not bothering you. 

-O-oh Sanji, your voice was shaky, fragile, too fragile to hide your troubled emotions, I was just taking a shower.

-But you have already showered earlier. He gets close to you and sit on your bed, trying to keep a serious and concerned face while he was distracted by the sweet smell of pomegrenate.

-Oh I was just a bit sweaty ha..ha.

He frowns his swirled eyebrows before taking your arm to look at it closely. Your skin was warm and extremely red from scrubbing for so long. He brushes a finger over your thin skin, making you tremble under his touch, and then he says in a soft voice ;

-(Y/N)-san, are you alright ?

I am fine. You looked away, trying to hide from his disarming gaze.

He wasn't one to get fooled by your words. He lifts your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look him in the eyes, making the towel fall next to you.

-Do you trust me ?

You look at him, and at that moment, tears start flowing rom your eyes. You let the comb fall on the ground and soft sobs start shaking your frail shoulders. Seeing you in that state, the blond man didn't know what to do at first, but then, he put his hand behind your neck and bring you closer to him. You close your eyes against his chest, hair leaving a humid spot on his shirt.

-Let it all out, (Y/N)-san.

And that was the trigger, hot tears were cascading on your cheeks. You sounded so lost and desperate. Sanji couldn't help but blame himself, how could he not see your sorrow ? He holds you tighter, feeling your warm skin right under his chin. He couldn't help but think about how sensual you were at that moment, having only a towel to hide your body, then he damned himself for being such a pervert in this moment where you needed him most.

-Sanjiii...you whimpered, like a little lamb in his embrace.

-(Y/N)-san.

Whenever he said your name, it would calm you down so much, making you feel better by the second.

-I...I relapsed again...I am sorry...I don't know how I just..I just hurt myself again...I feel so dirty...I feel disgusted I feel..

Shh...His voice was nothing but a soft whisper. He started caressing your wet hair gently, then his hand took the towel and started drying it.  I know what happened. I heard you.

You blushed to the thought of Sanji discovering that digusting part of you. You buried your face a bit deeper on his shoulder. He then continued, hands rubbing your hair a bit more.

-You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, no, you are a goddess, and I don't want to hear you say these mean words to yourself ever again.

He lets the towel slide and you lift your face up now, facing him.

-I am very proud of you for trying, and I know for sure that you will recover and succeed. I want you to trust me more when I say that you can do it. I want you to see yourself the way I see you. He holds your hand in his, because you might as well fall in love with yourself if you did.

-You're not disappointed in me ? Eyes down. Fear. Hope ?

-Never. As long as you are trying, I will never be disappointed in you.  

You hide your face with your hands, blushing after everything he told you. Your tears have dried, you felt a bit better already.

-Now you should probably...hu-m get dressed...I...Or...You will get sick so ! I will check up on you a bit later...h-hum ?

You blushed, realizing that you were almost naked. You looked away before saying shyly ;

-I..I don't mind it if you stay.

[thenovelartist]

ABC Fluff Headcanons - Luke Pearce - Tears of Themis

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

You may be the Watson to his Sherlock, but he knows you’re not a follower by nature. You stand firmly on your own two feet. And though it may scare him at times, particularly when your safety is on the line, he can’t deny the pride he feels watching you go above and beyond in all you do, especially when it involves others. That selflessness paired with your determination is what he truly admires about you, and he hopes that you’ll never change, no matter what trials you face.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Your smile. Because if you’re smiling, he knows everything’s going to be okay. He also knows when that smile is forced and when it’s faltering, prompting him to take action of his own to protect or hold you. It’s a tell-all for him, and that brings him comfort.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

In any way he can. He loves holding you. However, he likes it best when you’re chest-to-chest with his arms around you holding you close, no matter if it’s a long hug, lounging on the couch, or snuggling in bed. It’s a versatile position, allowing for you to either meet each other’s gaze while still having close physical contact or for hiding your expressions, such as you snuggling against his chest or him resting his chin on top of your head. It fits for every scenario.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Ideal date? Well… a date… with you. He’s not picky. However, he definitely leans towards the more casual settings. Things where you two can be relaxed around each other, chatting and bantering all the way. Whether that’s strolling around town or a camping adventure or even relaxing at home with a familiar movie you’re not really watching in the background is up to you, but he’s down for any and all of them.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He’s… well, not quite an open book but rather a book you have to open. He frequently puts on a happy face, so sometimes, you have to break past that. Once you do, he’s not ashamed of being open and honest about his feelings. He wants first and foremost for everything to be okay and for you to be happy, but if you’re shutting that down and calling his bluff, he’ll surrender and be open to having heart-to-hearts so as to get on the same page as you.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Yes… and no.

No, he doesn’t want a family because the lingering fear and guilt of leaving them behind would weigh heavily on his soul. But, if he was being honest with himself and the fear of his life being cut short wasn’t hanging over his head, his answer would be “how many kids are you willing to give him?” None? Okay, he gets you to himself. Five? Fantastic, he’d love a busy house. Adopt? He’s already got all the forms downloaded. Mix of both? Perfect. Family is what you make it, and he’s more than happy to make one with you, no matter what form that takes.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He loves things from you and accepts them all as a treasure. But he places the most value in things that are made. A solid ninety percent of the gifts he gives you are ones he made himself. He doesn’t see the value in giving gifts just to give them; they should either mean something or bring some sort of use to you. To him, gifts mean the most when time and effort was poured into it.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All. The. Time. He wants contact with you, and hand holding can be both perfectly innocent and sweetly intimate. And little squeezes here and there can communicate without words. He loves it.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Instantly blames himself. He’s there to protect you, and if you get hurt, that means he failed miserably, so you’ll likely have to coax him out of his self-abusive state. Doesn’t matter if it’s anything from a papercut to a large accident, he’ll think it’s his fault, and he will be by your side as much as humanly possible during your recovery. And if it has something to do with NXX? I pity the person who caused you harm. He’d devote far too much time and resources to hunting them down as quickly as humanly possible and making their life a living hell.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

You’re childhood friends. There’s plenty of teasing and inside jokes to go around. It might just be impossible for you to go a single day without one inside joke or playful reference to the past being pulled up.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Luke’s kisses come in one of two varieties: Reverent and Passionate. Reverent kisses cover most kisses, consisting of everything from good morning to good night to general pecks on the forehead, cheek, nose, you name it. The ability and privilege to kiss you means a lot to him, so no kiss is ever taken for granted. Passionate kisses, on the other hand, are less about the way he pulls you close or presses his lips against yours and more about him emotionally baring his soul in those moments. However tangled or feverish that kiss ends up being is only a byproduct of him wanting to express just how much he genuinely adores you.

L = Love Confession (how do they confess?)

You will have to drag it out of this man. Not so much the confession but the confidence to admit he wants to be with you, in sickness and in health, for as much time as he has left. So really, it’s far more likely that you confess first and he’ll admit he feels the same while telling you all the reasons you can’t be in a relationship. Only once you get over that will he pour out all his secrets of how long he’s loved you and how deeply he loves you… And potentially propose right then and there.

M = Marriage (What does the wedding look like?)

He could elope with you and be perfectly happy. And honestly… he might be the happiest with that. If you wanted an actual wedding, he really would have no problem letting you have what you wanted, but the beauty of an elopement is that it can be done sooner rather than later, and he thinks he’s running on borrowed time. If he’s gonna marry you, he’d want to do that, like… yesterday. So if you’re up for an elopement, you basically have twenty-four hours to find a dress because he’s gonna take you down to the courthouse ASAP.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

That he’s going to die soon and leave you behind. The biggest stressor for him is letting you get more attached to him because then his death will be even harder on you. And then what if you end up getting very close to him and marrying him like he wanted, only for him to leave you a widow at a young age? Or worst of all, what if he leaves you a single mom? He already hates the thought of leaving you, but leaving his kids behind…

He tries really hard not to think too deeply on this but it feels like a waking nightmare he’s not going to wake from any time soon.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

This man cannot go forty-eight hours without making at least one Sherlock Holmes reference. And he occasionally has the knack of saying them… at the worst time.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I don’t think he’d be into cutesy, couple pet names all the time. Instead, I feel like he’d probably use “Watson” or any other childhood nickname he had for you on the regular basis. “Baby” and “Sweetheart” are probably in use, too, but he would tend to save those for quiet or tender moments. And “love” is reserved for the private, more intimate moments.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

In any way he can; you just have to be present. Quality time for Luke can be anything from you two sitting in the same room while doing different things to going on an adventure together to an intimate date night. As long as he’s with you, time is not wasted.

R = Romance (how do they show their love and affection?)

Yes, yes, there’s grand gestures, but his love is shown in the little things. It’s the way he always is looking out for you, like offering you a moment to sit if you’d been walking a while or water if it’s hot. It’s in the way he squeezes your hand in the middle of a conversation. It’s the way he texts you reminding you not to over work yourself before ending it with an XO. Every day to him is precious, and he’s not going to bother with large, elaborate gestures of love if he can smother you in little, affectionate ones all day every day.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He’s pretty open with you, but the few secrets he has? Those he keeps locked away in the deepest part of himself. He will not let on that he has those secrets unless you get an inkling of their existence and go fishing to pull those secrets out of him. Keep at it; he won’t last long because he’s weak for you.

And of course, there’s state secrets he literally can’t tell you, but that’s a different matter all together.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Freaking years.

This boy has been in love with you forever and could have asked you out as early as high school, but he didn’t. Then you were apart for eight long years, and he could have started something up with you soon after you two reunited, but he didn’t.Instead, he plays the “beat myself up with regrets” game and wastes even moretime trying to logically distance himself from you before you eventually have to forcibly break him down. Only then does he cave. But the “beat himself up game”? Yeah, that never quits. Because eventually, he’ll beat himself up for wasting so much time to make a move.

You really have to help this boy out of those habits.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Will do anything to make you smile again. If you’re sad, he’ll try to pick you up with either a smile and some light banter or a hug and soothing words. If your mad, he’ll try to redirect or release your anger in any way he can. If you’re mad at him, que the kicked puppy look as he practically falls to his knees and begs for forgiveness.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He will show off when he can, usually about his detective skills or ability to fix things, and he will look like a five-year-old boy trying to impress a girl on the playground while doing it. Be sure to praise him for those moments. You will be rewarded with a grinning blushy boy.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

No. No. No.

…

Until you put your foot down and insist you’re gonna be by his side in a fight no matter what. He literally cannot win against you. And he hates it.

However, he is 110% your warrior and will be until he draws his dying breath. Nothing is going to change that. So if he can fight first and keep you from fighting in the first place, then he’ll do that.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Like a book. He’s known you waytoo long to not be able to. Even those eight years didn’t change you too much, and he was able to relearn everything that felt new to him fairly quickly.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

One of two ways. In scenario L, after the love confession, he would propose marriage in the heat of the moment. You’d probably already both be crying and a total wreck, but your hearts would already be out on the line, and he’d just take that moment to drop the bomb of “please be by my side for the rest of my life”.

OR if that didn’t happen, (or maybe it did BUT he didn’t consider it a proper proposal and wants a redo) the proposal would be nothing big or fancy. Rather, it’s in a quiet moment between the two of you, either hanging out at your place or his. He’s sure to get down on one knee, holding your hand reverently as he pours out his heart to you. You’ll be in tears and his eyes will probably be glassy too by the time you say yes. At which point, he’ll put the ring on your finger and then hug you tight. And probably not let you go until absolutely necessary.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

You.

No, really. You’re basically his world, so as long as he’s able to see you and know you’re okay, he’s okay. And if you want to settle him with sweet words and gentle touches, go right ahead.

You will also put him to sleep if you massage his head with your nails, so be sure to pet the Golden Retriever Puppy. Let him have a moment where he isn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

[spije]

scp omega-k but significantly stupider part 5: crime

“They should have read more yaoi” you say. you then throw your wheelchair out the window and then jump out the window. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING” says june as you wheelchair away at extremely high speeds. “oh my god our platonic daughter casey is going somewhere without supervision when we are supposed to be monitoring her health this is not good nevermind this is fine this is normal I’m proud of her I’m going to go buy an nft” says dave. he then spends 50 hundred thousand million hundred twenty dollars on a monkey nft. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” says june.

you are on your way to the scp headquearters. on your way there you see a bunch of your neighbors who also died and survived from it. it’s pretty epic that this can happen now.

but there’s a problem... you forgot to

you are now dave from homestuck. you just bought an nft. people dont die anymore. this is pretty sick and rad in your opinion considering you’re a god and dont have to worry about your friends dying anymore. yeehaw. (you are also texan.) your friend rose is pestering you.

pesterlog:

rose: dude i just saw your name appear on the blockchain stop buying stupid nfts

dave: i can do what i want with my money. climate change isnt going to kill anyone anymore

rose: ur an idiot *slams face on desk*

dave: omg did it hurt

dave: did your cells die when you did that. did they signal to your nervous system that you died

rose: dave this is serious business calliope is messaging me that the world is in danger

rose: because of the nfts

dave: because of the nfts

rose: buy me a coffee haha we . did the thing where you have the. to buy me a coffee where did that originate from again

dave: rose are you drunk

rose: no

(rose is definitely drunk... on coffee...)

dave: you know you should feel ashamed of yourself. the stupid ape yacht club died for your sins they died for you to have that coffee and what did you do? you desecrated their name. they are out there terraforming thousands of acres of land to farm coffee beans and you denounce them like this

rose: you realize that’s the problem right? that they are terraforming thousands of acres of precious land that fostered life after life after life, thousands of years of wonderful existence, evolution, and people,being bought up and flattened like rice in the name of selling to freaking starbucks. whose side are you on? this joy and wonder existed before the planet even had a name and it is bit by bit being destroyed. before the earth turned 13. are you willing to sacrifice that? will you only care when the life they destroy in the name of coffee next is yours?

dave: why does it matter if the earth turned 13

rose: you are missing my point. the ape yacht club “died for your sins” sure but you know who else did?

dave: nobody because nobody dies anymore

rose: but

dave: no nfts are literally so cool biological sister you have no idea it’s a non fingible token you can store it on the blockchain. what were you doing looking at the blockchain anyway? if you hate nfts?

dave: i am going to bed

[TG stopped pestering TT

it is 3 pm. you’re going to bed because you are so sick and rad and have so much bitcoin. you cry yourself to sleep knowing everyone you care about hates you. it’s their fault they dont see that you only support this stuff ironically. etherium has been crashing lately but hey buy low sell high amirite???? you bought so many stocks in etherium... you’re going to get such a good grade...

you are chloe. you just watched morbius. it’s morbin time. you morb into the scp foundation, and you are going to break the company but first you want to check out the creatures.

you go over to the enclosures and realize how horrible it is that they are trapped in the enclosures with nothing but a laptop with netnanny on it that blocks them from looking at youtube. you free all of the scps. so fricking epic. you and the scps listen to emo together and then you destroy the scp base. that’s one base down. your plan, the total destruction of the scp foundation, is far from over.

[janekfan]

Hostile

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30583040

Jon always needed a strong hand.

Ever since he was small and wandering off without his grandmother’s permission only to be escorted back by disgruntled police.

Elias just wanted him to be the best Archivist he could be.

It didn’t stop the sting. Just reinforced how much he had to learn and how awful he was at this job. He was just being...sensitive, right? The others were fine. They didn’t seem to have any issues, certainly not like him. Meanwhile, it seemed no matter what Jon did, Elias browbeat him. Always gently, always politely, until Jon understood how he’d gone wrong and left in a state of distressing confusion. His employer made it so clear that Jon often felt foolish coming away from his office. If he’d just been smarter he would have figured it out on his own without needing his supervisor to explain it to him in terms he could understand.

He passed Tim and Elias chatting amiably in the hall, burying his nose in the stack of papers he was carrying to make himself as small as possible before shuffling past them. They didn’t seem to notice or if they did, made no move to acknowledge him and the last thing he heard when he rounded the corner was Elias chuckling at one of Tim’s bad jokes, the same one he used to tell Jon at least once a month up in Research. It was inane. Nothing to well, to write home about. Certainly nothing that should have piqued Elias’ interest.

Though, Jon supposed, he didn’t know anything about either of them did he?

“Martin.” Cultured, the smooth voice drifted through the office door, worming its way into Jon’s ear and straight into his already hammering heart. He was ashamed that he couldn’t stop himself from creeping to the door and listening closer. “This is fine work. How long have you been working here?”

“Oh! Uh! Um!” Jon rolled his eyes at the stammering, pushing down a spike of what was definitely not jealousy. Elias laughed, light and easy.

“No need to be so anxious. You’ve been an asset to this department. A good fit.”

“Ah! Th’thank you, Elias. Sir! I mean, I mean sir.”

The man’s amusement was so sincere. Jon must’ve been missing something when it came to himself.

“Ms. James, a word if you please.”

“Of course, sir. How can I help?” Jon pressed his back against the wall, the chill of the basement cement seeping into his button down and sending him shuddering.

“I wanted to thank you for your dedication. I realize things have been fraught, for lack of a better term, since the promotion.”

“I trust in the interview process.”

“I’m sure you do.” Jon held his breath. “And I appreciate your willingness to support this endeavor as it continues to grow. Especially where our new Archivist is concerned.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you again, Ms. James.” Heavier footsteps retreated and Sasha’s headed in his direction. Jon nearly ran from her impending approach, taking refuge again in his office with the thought that it should belong to her echoing in empty space between his ears.

“Jonathan.” He tried not to fidget under Elias’ intense scrutiny.

“Yes, Elias?”

“I received a call from the library.”

“I, I assisted with a difficult case a few months ago.”

“I can’t imagine why, but they are asking for your help again.” It was a cutting remark and Jon fought against the flooding mess of emotions. “They know you’re now our Institution’s newly minted Archivist.”

Oh.

OH. Of course! His impatience was mixing him all up and getting him up in arms before Elias finished speaking.

“Do you know what it’s regarding?”

“I can’t recall though you are making fewer mistakes over time. I do think your efforts would be better focused on your work in the archives, don’t you think? Jonathan?”

oh

“Ah, w’well. Yes. If that is what you think I should do.” He could feel his face heating up, no doubt blazing red with an embarrassing blush.

“I didn’t ask for your thoughts only for you to leave it up to me. You need to be decisive, Jonathan.”

“Yes, th’that is. Yes. I will be.”

“And?” Lord was he ever bungling this.

“I will turn down their invitation.” Elias was no longer looking at him but at his desktop screen with a bored expression.

“Don’t worry yourself. I’ll take care of it for you.”

“Th’thank you, sir.”

“No need to have you tangled up in old efforts.”

“Yes, of course.” Jon shifted from foot to foot desperately trying to keep his hands still, to be professional until Elias glanced back at him in confusion.

“You can go, Jonathan. I certainly don’t want to keep you from your duties.”

It was rare that Jon left his office since taking, stealing, the position of Archivist and the uncomfortable silence that settled over the breakroom upon his arrival was damning.

“Need something, boss?” Tim raised an eyebrow, hiding a frown behind his cup. Jon felt whatever bravery he’d scraped up in the past several hours disappear.

“I, um. I just, Elias?”

“What about him?” Sasha folded her hands, prim and polite as ever since the announcement was made.

“Well, you. You’ve known m’me a while, years really, and. And I think, does, does he--?”

“Spit it out, man.” He flinched at Tim’s bored tone. Tired of him. He shouldn’t have come here.

“He, the way he speaks with me?” Lord, this sounds ridiculous. He was ridiculous, just a sensitive mess. He always did this, turned molehills into mountains. Read into situations and only came out the other side wrong.

“Elias isn’t like that, weird maybe.” Tim sounded so sure, flippant and nonchalant. “He’s been nothing but supportive since our transfer. You’re misinterpreting him or something. You do that.” Jon’s stomach dropped, tears welling up in his eyes as everything he thought about himself was confirmed.

“No, it. It feels like more than that. It. Conversion with him doesn’t. It doesn’t feel right.”

“What, Jon? He’s being mean? Rough having a couple of new responsibilities?” Tim scoffed. “You got the job over someone more qualified, over someone who works harder than anyone--”

“Tim--” He held up his hand.

“Sash, he needs to hear this. Someone needs to tell him the truth.”

“The, the truth?”

Yeah, Jon. The truth. She deserves so much better than this and now her choices are to settle or flat out leave and it’s your fault. All because you couldn’t resist the urge to interview behind her back!”

“That’s not what happened!” Even Jon could hear his whinging, voice high and desperate for one of them to believe him.

“Not from where we’re standing, mate.” Tim crossed his arms and sat back in his chair and when Jon looked to Sasha she merely shrugged. Martin just looked helpless, staring into his tea and avoiding eye contact all together.

“I, I. That’s not.” Repeating himself wouldn’t do anything to save him and he fought against the tears gathering on his lashes. “I’m s’sorry.”

“Anything else?”

No. There was nothing else.

Jon kept to himself, kept his head down, arriving before the rest of them and leaving long after they did. He didn’t want to see them. He’d made a right fool of himself enough for now, unsure if his fragile self esteem could withstand another blow. Really, he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen and there was no way to explain how Elias had maneuvered him so skillfully into this position. Was he trying to drive a wedge between them? Knowing Jon would invite his two closest friends to accompany him? A knock on the door made him jump, reminding him for a moment of a very different and more sinister one from his childhood.

“Jon?” Martin, no doubt with another overture of friendship he was loath to accept. It was easier to remain alone rather than face the hurt of another rejection so soon.

“What do you need?” Caught off guard by his sore throat, he coughed roughly into his elbow, accepting the tea to soothe it with a nod of thanks.

“That doesn’t sound good.” It wasn’t. Now that he wasn’t burying himself shoulders deep in work and self flagellation he was aware of aching muscles and oppressive fatigue, a throbbing at the base of his skull that made him stomach sick.

“It’s nothing. I neglected to drink any water today.” It was true, he realized and Martin didn’t look convinced but Jon didn’t want to go into how miserable he’d been feeling lately. Tired and wrung out trying to avoid them all and figure this out and not have a melt down all at the same time.

“You should take better care of yourself.” Gentle and kind and Jon bristled with it, flustered with the concern.

“I’ll take that under advisement.” He turned away, staring at the messy surface of his blotter to avoid anymore interaction. “I have work to do.” Martin shifted, an expression Jon couldn’t parse on his face when he glanced up at the silence. “So…?”

“Oh! Yes, I’ll be going then.” Another awkward beat passed between the two of them.

“Thank you, Martin.”

Despite feeling particularly woozy it had been a good day.

Elias nodded to him when they passed each other on the way to lunch.

He pointed out a particularly competent piece of research.

Praised how well he was handling the job lately.

It was a shame it was at the cost of his sanity. Jon was falling apart at his poorly sewn seams, every moment another snapped suture and he was pinning himself back together with clothes pegs in a windstorm. Even he knew this wasn’t sustainable. He was going to burn out like a match overextending himself like this. But avoiding his assistants meant he wasn’t able to ask them for help. He’d made his bed. He just wished he could lay in it.

Maybe Elias would approve of Jon taking the rest of the day. He’d stayed late all week. Caught up with work and even plowed ahead a little bit. So when Jon caught him in the hall he tentatively asked.

"Y'you see, I. I've been a bit under the weather and I thought since I'm ahead--"

“Jonathan,” the disappointment in the way he said his name struck Jon like a bolt of lightning and he couldn’t stop the way his face fell. “You’ve barely begun.” Oh lord, he’d read this wrong. So very wrong. “Do you truly think it’s appropriate to ask for time off so early in your tenure?”

"No, of course not. I just meant, I just thought--"

"I find that difficult to believe.” He didn’t bother hiding his contempt. “If there's nothing else?" Jon shook his head, not trusting himself to speak lest he burst into hysterics right here. Elias left him where he stood and Jon took a few moments to compose himself before turning back the way he came only to nearly run into Martin.

"I didn't mean to listen!" He held up his hands in supplication or surrender. "I swear I didn't, Jon."

"S'fine." There wasn't enough left of him to care and when he made to step around the other man found himself stopped by a careful touch at his bicep.

“Wait, um. Please. Does he, does he always speak to you that way?” Jon eyed Martin warily. He was the only one of his assistants he didn’t really know. Why would he care?

“Only when I’ve made a mistake.” When I deserve it. When I’ve failed to figure out what he wants from me and done something wrong.

“It didn’t seem very professional.” Shame ran red-hot through his veins--what did he know?

“I assure you, I was. I was out of line.” Jon didn’t want to be here having this conversation with Martin of all people. He wanted to retreat to the relative safety of his office where he could sit in the dark and continue underperforming at his job.

“Jon, you’re not well.” Martin sounded upset with him and somehow it hurt worse than it did with Elias. At least Elias knew him. Martin by all accounts was a stranger. “You should be at home.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand.” Jon tore his trembling hands through already bedraggled and greasy hair. He was disgusting. Unprofessional. Sweating through his clothes and unable to focus long enough to make it through even one statement.

"What don't I understand?" Jon's expression turned hard.

"Forgive me if I don't wish to count the ways in which I've failed at my job for you."

"Jon I--"

"Leave it, Martin." And he stalked off in none to straight a line, leaving Martin to gawk at his back.

Jon collapsed against his desk, the old pine creaking under even his small weight, before clawing his way across it to the chair and barely grabbing the bin in time to be sick. With nothing to lose he laid over it, stomach convulsing painfully as he fought to win back tentative control and only putting it back when his own panting became too loud in his head. Jon allowed himself a cry, forehead pillowed on folded arms where he slumped, muffling the pathetic sounds that slipped past him with his teeth; biting his wrist where his cuff would keep the mark hidden.

Tim's unceremonious arrival surprised him and Jon yelped, reflexively running a sleeve over his face to erase the evidence even though he knew it wouldn’t make much difference.

"Martin told us."

"Tol'tol'you what?" Real fear rooted him where he sat, raising the hairs on his arms and sending a thrill up his spine. What did they know? What had he said? Did he tell them about Elias reprimanding him? Proof of his incompetence? Were they here to yell at him again?

"How Elias has been treating you."

"Jon. You do realize it's him being unprofessional."

“You can’t let him treat you that way.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We would have helped you.”

Like a volley of canon fire each fast phrase pounded against his crumbling defenses and left him reeling with contradicting information.

“You should have said something earlier.” He tried. He just hadn’t tried hard enough and he didn’t know what made the words tumble out of his mouth now but he couldn’t stop himself from blurting:

“I tried!” And he'd known better than to try again and risk another telling off. He was shaking and sick. He didn’t want to be here anymore, wanted to go home. “But I d’did this to myself, didn’t I? That's why you l'let me hear the t't'ruth.”

“No, I was. No, Jon--” He plowed on, overwrought and interrupting Tim, words spilling out of him too fast to be taken back.

“I thought we. W’we were friends. I thought I could come to you when th’things aren’t g’good. Like before, like in research.” Jon scrubbed at his face. “But you just. You hate me. And I know it's my fault. I know I'm not, not fit for this position and I know it's ungrateful of me but I don't want to be here. I’m so tired. I don’t. I don’t feel well. And I’m not allowed to leave.”

“What do you mean?” Tim was a hell of a lot closer than he had been, kneeling on the floor and holding Jon's hands to keep him from scratching himself to ribbons.

“I’ve been telling you.” It came out as a pitiful sob, squeaking past a throat tight from holding back the sea.

“Okay, okay. Just tell us again.” Jon closed aching eyes, hot tears falling over hot cheeks, breath panting and strained in his twisted up chest all tied up and tangled with twine.

“I can’t s’skive off. Elias said.” Like a touchstone a pair of soft hands guided him back in the chair.

“He’s burning up.”

“Doesn’matter.”

“Of course it matters, Jon.” Sasha’s voice came from far away, through a tunnel, wending its way to his stopped up ears through syrup. His next thought slipped away, dissolving in the heat swallowing him up from top to toes. Breathing became harder, impossible, lungs full of caking cement smothering choking snuffing him out like a candle flame.

“Jon?”

“Jon!”

Devoured and spit out again, again again

writhing,

drifting on an outgoing tide of misery and affliction,

waves of agony break over him and suck him under and roll him along the mud bottom of a polluted river and every gasp he snatches at the surface is less and less and less

Clicking, beeping, the chirping of a million birds in a thousand trees and each one wants his attention tick tick ticking away like the blood red hand of a watch and awareness trickles in like hot black tar against the surface of his eyelids.

Fluorescent lights carve their way in between heavy lashes and Jon recognizes the broken sound of denial as his own. A noise, a voice? in the room and the blinding glow receded enough to think about figuring out where he was. He coughed, mouth a desert, and welcomed a spoonful of ice chips blissful and cool against the heat seeping through his veins, his arteries, his skin.

“Jon?” He recognized the sound, the person, the thumb tracing circles over the back of his hand. “Hey, there he is. Welcome back, bud.”

“T’Tim…waz…?” Fairy floss crowded out any thoughts and Jon spent the next seconds trying to come up with more words and failing.

“Do you remember what happened?” Martin took up space next, then Sasha, crowded around him and no, he didn’t. Was barely able to catalogue his body; the deep seated ache, a prickly itch in the corner of his elbow.

“Hos’ital?” Tim nodded, offering up another spoonful and Jon let them melt over his tongue. Lord, he was tired, prying open eyes he didn’t remember closing.

“S’okay, buddy.” He was being so kind. Like he used to be in Research and the last thing he felt before it all faded away were twin sweeps of familiar fingers wiping away tears.

All three assistants were still there the next time he woke though Jon had no idea of how much time had passed. He wasn’t as confused, actually aware of his surroundings and he scratched absentmindedly at the IV taped to his skin. The thin gown didn’t have sleeves long enough to hide the lines left behind by his nails. He didn’t remember clawing himself up like that.

“How do you feel?” Martin looked relieved, tired.

“Uh. Fine, fine.” He plucked at the stiff blanket, avoiding their eyes. “What. I’m s’sorry. I can’t seem to--what happened?”

“You’ve been sick, Jon.” Tim plunked himself down in a terrible plastic chair. “Bad stomach flu, dehydration. You’ve been here for days.” There was a hard edge to his voice and Jon suppressed a flinch.

“S’sorry.” Sasha sat down at his other side, taking up a hand, and Martin offered him a smile.

“Jon, please don’t be.” She looked tired too, drawn and pale. “Tim and I are the ones apologizing.” Jon shook his head, staring at his lap and withdrawing his hand to worry at his fingers.

“I shouldn’t have--”

“What?” Tim cut him off. “Asked for help?” Jon nodded, earnest, glad they were all on the same page.

“Yes! You’re understandably angry with me. I didn’t respect that.”

“Can you hear how ridiculous you sound?” Tim wasn’t shouting but it was a close thing. “We froze you out! Left you alone! Accused you of lying about how Elias was treating you--Jon. Being upset about a stupid promotion doesn’t warrant how we treated you. You know that, right?”

“I don’t. I don’t know?” Sasha hushed Tim before he could start up again.

“It doesn’t. And when you became ill we blamed you for that too, for not telling us after we gave you no reason to trust that we would help and it wasn’t right.” Gently, she embraced him and he couldn’t stop himself from collapsing into her and while she wasn’t always one for physical displays of affection, she pressed him closer. “We’re going to do better.”

“We’re in this together, boss, like we should have been from the beginning. From this minute on.” Tim clasped him on the shoulder. “Okay?” Jon, exhausted and confused and hopeful, looked up at Martin when he nodded too.

“Okay.”